


Anchienta Prequel: Gliscor

by Artisauce



Category: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Time & Explorers of Darkness & Explorers of Sky
Genre: Age Progression, Battle, Coming of Age, Gen, Growth, Personal Growth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artisauce/pseuds/Artisauce
Summary: Gliscor's origins from Simile City was one that was never pressed out nor explained, as mysterious as the other members of the Phoenix Guild. Unusually large and an incredible brawler, yet happy as a whistle, the cheer of the dark and gloomy side of the Phoenix team, where did Gliscor come from? Across the hearth, the fireplace of nightly watch, Gliscor rouses the tale of the early parts of a quiet life, before becoming part of the Phoenix Guild.
Kudos: 2





	Anchienta Prequel: Gliscor

**Author's Note:**

> The story and dialogue are steam-of-consciousness.

“Hello! Great day! I hope your doing great!”

“...”

“No need to be dramatically quiet! Haha, what’s on your mind? You want me to guess?”

“No, sorry. I’ve been wondering…”

“Aboout?”

“You. Your strength. Er, it’s absurd! I mean… I haven’t seen you beaten.”

“Well, you haven’t been around for long.”

“Has someone ever beaten you in a fair fight then?”

“Well fairness as in situation, type effectiveness, level of surprise?”

“Straight battle. One on one, no interference, any type.”

“I’ve avoided those kind of battles, but they few I had, I won.”

“Then are they any battles you fought that you thought would be average or easy, but was hard?”

“Maybe you’d do better with an example.”

“Hm. Well, ice should be really effective against you, yet you hardly flinched at the that Glaceon’s Ice Beam.”

“Haa. I know what you’re on about, don’t be embarrassed! I can’t ignore it. It’s true that I miiight be gifted, and I miiiight have honed that gift with a lifetime of endless, you know, training, battling, killing… and maaaybe I figured some things about me that I keep to myself most of the time.”

“There’s a secret to your power?”

“Maybe! I’ve seen countless others who tried… very, very hard. But what can I say, I’m an anomaly! Maybe it was something I ate when I was young. Maybe it’s just genetics. Maybe I’m just blessed by luck for some reason. For the few times I’ve been curious on figuring it out, I never found anything… solid, right? I just _was_ who I am.”

“So you never did anything special?”

“No? I don’t think so. I work hard, but there’s plenty that work harder. Like I said, I’m weird like that.”

“Maybe it’s your optimism?”

“I can’t help that. I love life. I love who I am in body and mind, and I enjoy my company. And people like me this way. I’ve never really thought to settle on more than that, so I’m happy. I doubt it would give superpowers, but you can always try yourself!”

“That’s… sounds good. Maybe I’ll give it a try. Thank you..”

“You’re super welcome! Is this because you’re worried about yourself?”

“I’m… I’m expected to be at the top…”

“Then come to spar soon! I’ll critique!”

“...”

“Please? For yourself?”

“... You always seem to set your own tune, don’t you. I’ll come, but most importantly, will you be able to teach me how to beat you, then?”

“I’ll try! I promise to try! I have to be honest, but I’ve never succeeded before!”

“Then… try harder?”

“Hehe, you have to put lots of effort into it as well!”

“Then I guess I will “try” as well. See you then.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

_Dash, dash!_

_Leave no trace, bear its race!_

_Snow falls through, wind like loom,_

_Weave a kill, and feel its chill!_

\-------------------------------------------------------------

My story started at a place called Simile City. Born and raised, where I've lived most of my days, hehe. The name rings a bell with everyone around my age and older, certainly, more or less because of me, but hardly anyone knew of the city’s grace and… size! Half a day to get to the center from the border! Almost every species of mon had made the city their home, even the legendary Jarachi! It was just… a great place to be raised in. Maybe because of its sparse population density, the exposure to so many types of mon, or the loose sense of community that we all liked to believe was greater than it really was. I loved it, and still do. Safe, prosperous, spacious… anyways.

My parents were both Gliscor, as you might expect, and they were both massive compared to me. Evolution does that. For a bit of background, Gliscor by themselves are very rare, and they were likely the only ones in the city that were there as permanent residents. As a Gligar though, I had much of the day to enjoy myself, as my parents were evidently nocturnal, and I wasn't. We still saw each other most of day, but at noon and a bit after I had to learn to be very quiet when at home. The Gliscors also slept on the ceiling like giant Zubats, while I had a small, super-duper comfy bed, likely because I couldn't latch on to anything with my tail yet. It was just a stinger, not a wide pincer like my parents had.

Our small home was rather near the center of the city, close to the giant buildings and the stadium, but our residence was in cavern shaft below the streets. There were many small entrances that I and other small mon used, particularly birds wanting to dry off and perhaps wait out until the weather calms. There were only a few big ones that most average-sized or larger residents could go through, though I never bothered finding them. The drainage system was weird, but for the few times it flooded during storms, it was quickly fixed. Earthquakes were nasty, though, and apparently I almost died once while still in my egg because of it. Details vague to this day, but it was a ghost mon that saved me as I dropped down the crevice. My father _might_ have dramatized this story, however, as it was part of my lessons when learning about my weaknesses and strengths. ‘Even as an egg, earthquakes should never bother you when airborne’...

I think my first memory of my parents were, fresh after hatching, meeting them. My hatching was quiet and quick, so I actually managed to surprise them around a rocky corner of a room. My mother watched in amusement as my father mimicked my own movements: I waved my left arm, so did his; my right arm raised, then did his; and then I jumped and flailed, which he managed to copy undaunted with his own unending energy. I then tackled him, in which he welcomed the hug with his rarest smiles, allowing me to somehow pin him as I struggled to wrap my arms around his thin midsection. Simple times, simple pleasures.

My first few years of living… I learned to climb, use echolocation, glide, and I failed and got injured all the same. I whimpered, too, but I had the strong instinct to stop myself before it got out of hand. Not to alert “predators,” I can imagine, from the would-be crying. Learning to use my pectines was also a rather awkward experience, but eventually I obtained some proficiency with my odd sense of smell, as well as getting used to having it sheathed rather than having the comb sticking out all the time. It's useful for odors and detecting pheromones, but at my stage of development, I can only find my parents and detect smoke or poison with it. My aerojets I had to learn all on my own, but it kindly naturally assisted me in gaining speed while gliding… free occasional elevation was free, after all. Unfortunately I had the usual Gligar syndrome of aerojet sickness, and my ears popped from the pressure buildup a lot during flight. It got better after a month.

The constant flying was an exciting time for me, pushing adrenaline out each day. Both my parents put a lot of attention to me during this time, and forced me through flight practice until I exhausted myself from climbing. I suppose they didn’t want my formative years to be disrupted because I wasn't living mountainside, where I would of had much more spacious freedom to learn how to glide naturally.

Oh, what's echo like? Like the fuzzy feeling you get you’re almost touching a part of your body, like your eyes, but it's much sharper and it meshes with your vision… kinda weirdly. Sort of like how your eye can see different things than the other, but with both open you see both images at once. The wave that goes out does a bounce, and I can get an echo back from all over. I can even see behind me while looking forward, see in pitch black and around corners… but honestly, it could never fully replace actual sight for me. It was really ideal for my underground home, though, since it actually was pitch black all the time. 

Back on track, my neighbors at the bottom grew rather fond of me and my gliding attempts, and a few times kept me company as I waited out the pain. I was relatively new to conversation and was kinda shy, but they went easy on me. I also always knew my father was watching too, from way above the cave system in case I actually needed help. He got less worried as I mastered gliding and climbing to a degree. It always warmed my heart to see that furrowed, intimidating glowing death glare break into a happy smile and a wave. Still, even with protection, I was weak as a Gligar, which my parents easily made me aware of.

They encouraged me to be as quiet as their silent gliders when I was young. It went well enough to not wake up their big ears, at least. This habit not only helped me become stealthy, which was my father's intent, and not bother the others who were nocturnal, but also may have contributed to my introvertness as my father stressed its everyday importance. ‘Say nothing, don't look into a predator's eyes directly, and stay in the shadows…’ Luckily, everyone at my underground neighborhood kept to themselves anyways. Generally everyone in the city weren't bothered to be so nosy with all the noise they have to deal with everyday already, so I wasn't really forced to get to know anyone that well either. My family were my first friends, and family aren't friends for a lot of mon, so I was lucky.

As I got older, my father did most of the raising for me. My mother was lazy, always napping or reading or doing puzzles… I sometimes didn't think she really wanted a child from the way she tries to avoid me, but she was always really grateful that I wasn't the bothering type, and always became the parent when my father wasn't around to fulfill the role. Thankfully she at least taught me how to read and write after father exalted all his effort in convincing her, as my father couldn't do it at all… but pincers can only get you so far. She was like a Smeargle the way she scanned and wrote, so quick and fancy! Unfortunately only practice would allow me to reach the level my mother was at, and I had plenty of… more childlike activities to do. Like gliding down the shaft. And injuring myself. Hehe.

My father made me learn which common berries were good and bad for my kind, and what each should do to me; how to clean myself, as water by itself would of course never fully do the job, nor would it ever be comfortable; how to add, multiply and understand quantity in the explicit sense… you know, counting; and taught me the typings of many, many pokemon, as well as their names. We spent time outside together examining strangers from a distance, playing guess-the-typing. He taught me to be unafraid and confident when confronting strangers with questions, like what their types are, but was noticeably shy when he tried it himself. At least I took his words to heart, though I may have become more abrasive as a result. I also learned the oddity of what pokemon I was. We had the capability to be venomous, and certainly looked like it, but we weren't actually that great at it. We were bugs, too, though our bug-like abilities weren't that good either. Instead, we were attuned to the powers of flight and… ground. It was as weird as it sounded, and I learned we were solely unique in that combination. I was told not to give my typing out freely, as it's a cool conversation starter and useful against enemies who do not know about it. If I had to, I could say I'm just yet another flying bug type. I thought him clever then.

My father wasn't the best teacher, so he focused on helping me find the answers on my own, and making my own beliefs when it came to more advanced topics. He was never forceful. Not the most effective, but I always gave an optimistic try in his lessons and mostly succeeded. I suppose the fact that I never intentionally disobeyed helped form trust in this type of education, and I was also given lots of freedom. Gligar are typically very obedient to their parents, likely again, by natural instinct, and are very unproblematic children, so I wasn't anything special, but I still remember making the effort to not get on the wrong side of their glares. I'm sure they loved that they never had to discipline me. I was starting to form my happy and optimistic spirit, and I know that they never would want to take that opportunity from me. Sure, spoiled, but I was well behaved and I was… hm, ‘the light of their lives?’

As I grew up some more, I was slowly exposed to the rest of the big city, and allowed to go on my own to explore. I was to avoid places where few mon could see me, abd as usual my father told me this by showing me the consequences of doing it first: how easily some mon could hide there, and how quickly I could be overwhelmed. The surprise hug-tackles from the darkness was both a scary realization and a comforting one: I can be easily killed, but eventually I can become as quick, stealthy and awesome as my father as a Gliscor. One day. Luckily, both the night and day of the city was lively, so it was reasonable for help to arrive if I screamed for it. Just in case. I could venture up at any point, and I was let alone on the thought of what times are safest for me. It was my first hobby: wandering. I always felt in need of a constant change of scenery to think straight… or to perhaps just keep my mind off the bad things.

I sometimes did errands for my mom, bringing the latest papers where they were free or on the ground, or kept my father company on his back as he glided to work. The city was never boring for me in its sights, smells and sounds, but maintaining friendships in the enigmatic social world was one of my weaknesses. I was really easy going at the time, so I jumped a lot between people who I wanted to see, and usually just examine, but some mon didn't like me because of it. Noncommittal, bothersome, nosey… awkward, but you know, that's just who I wanted to be! I was just curious when I wanted to be! What I considered ‘spending time with’ was really just sitting or going around, silent, and just looking around. The going became gliding with fliers, and they often had to wait for me to climb back up to elevation, if there were even anything that tall around.

Eventually I think I gave up doing it my way, and I just considered myself was enough company for me at least. Almost. I always came back home rather purposely. My parents were much better at talking to someone like me, someone who you had to Giga Impact open to get me to talk comfortably, and conversation was just few of my parents’ gifts, especially when they both knew personally what it’s like to feel a bit _too_ lonely. I don’t think I had it that rough, but I guess they were worried. Of course, their real intention was for me to get comfortable. They probably thought they missed a big part of my development, not having other Gligar to talk to. They rarely got dull with what to talk about, so as my very-late starting social drive began to be forced out, I actually got to finally learn who my parents were, as well what's happening with them in the present. I know, most assume this privilege to be sort of part of the everyday life, but I really did seclude myself way more than what was reasonable! It was new and exciting learning about the city, my name, my parents’ names, where they came from, what in the world was my mother reading now… all such. But I was never able to establish this same questioning curiosity outside of home. Observing things from a distance was just my go-to in the world. I disliked lying to my parents that I was being social, but I think they always knew that it was a young child's facade. I was introverted. Very.

Oh, right, and reading papers with my mom became my second hobby I think. It probably also helped me put my mind off my own life and its rooting problems even more, and exposed me more to my so very mysterious mother. I had to ask 30 times to get a clue, but her interests in reading were majorly about corruption. It fascinated me too, but the articles she read didn't mention much of any corruption at all. Her bored spirits seem to liven up whenever I asked her to point out where the ‘bad bits’ of the articles were. She particularly liked the political development of the physic school, even though it was never the main headline. She told me that by itself was damning. 

So you see, my life was... moderate? Not as interesting, at least for then, but my childhood was peaceful. I was the first of my family line born in the city, and even they were surprised at how easygoing my young life was compared to there's in the wild. I couldn't complain! I was, certainly, a loner, as was my parents. That was most definitely inherited from them, if anything else. I liked to think we were alone _together_ , as we respected and enjoyed our privacy. My mother with her puzzles and news from around the world, me with my caution-filled adventures around the city, and my father…. I still had so many questions about it! He only answered some, but left most to ‘when I was older.’

The sweet life me and my mom enjoyed had to be supported somehow, and as I was taught how to use finances frugally so my mother didn't need to go out and buy food, I became ever more curious how I was able to live my life the way I was so far. I wasn't blind to it, there were mon that had it tough and lived on the streets. You just learn to ignore them. 

As I figured: my father. My mother had to spill it. He was a minor gladiator at the arena, and fighted strangers to the audience’s entertainment. It was violent, and deaths were a rare yet existing threat. My mother was wise at saving money and getting discounts so he wouldn't have to go to more dangerous matches, but our savings were meager. He would sometimes get a big injury, and our savings would take a big hit. I suppose some could find it frustrating: he wasn’t a fighter, he didn’t train hard, but he just plain _loved_ doing it. The pride, the honour, and the adrenaline rush. A very poor parenting decision you could say, but he couldn’t be convinced to do anything else. Mother at least had some education that she paid herself for reading, but my father couldn't muster the motivation. We didn't question what we each wanted to do with our lives, I guess. They never questioned why I wandered around the city idling, nor did I interrogate my mother for living her life reading papers and news articles. He at least earned some, enough to allow us to do this, to give us this freedom, and our overall inexpensive lifestyles allowed him to continue. I was respectful, appreciative, even a bit fascinated by his spirit and bravery when I found out. But I couldn't help feeling… useless. Unable to help him with this challenge of his. I didn't know deep down whether or not he wanted to continue like this, but I knew he didn't want us to suffer when he did.

We only ever had one long talk about it, and that was it. I was ultimately happy with the outcome. They were set in their ways, and it was _I_ that had the opportunity. I would have to try to find work for myself so he could skip a match every so often. Less time fighting, more time recuperating and training. No dead dad, I would hope.

Ever since, I was that more grateful of him still being around. He became much more privy to the details of his matches when I was curious, much to my mother's discontented and worried ears. She was much more herself when she believed he was safe at the arena. Nevertheless, my initial worries quickly faded away. I could never keep such stressful thoughts for long. It’s just life, and I was the optimistic sort! Even I wasn't totally safe in the streets, yet I liked to assume I was. But I did try to find a way to support my family’s way of life. We all wanted it.

My job search was interesting. Nobody turned me down because of my attitude, though! Most positions required that you must be fully evolved just out of principle. My mother had hidden a Razor Fang until I'm ready for it, though she was delightfully vague on what that exactly means. Perhaps she just likes me being smaller than everyone else in the family. Or maybe, like her clue, she’s waiting for me to lose my naivety before I get the attention and appearance of an adult. I disagreed that I was naive, though I respected her decision. I still wished for the better-in-every-way power up every single day, especially when I faced physical and mental struggles. Especially when trying to find a job.

Other positions required a certain type of mon to fill them, and though I was technically a flier, I cannot generate lift without _trying really hard painfully_ , which was just plain awkward, or use my aerojets which, while fairly weak, I save exclusively for emergency maneuvers. I couldn't glide either if I had something heavy with me unless I went dangerously fast. My ground affinity didn't help much either in a city of smooth stone, plus I couldn't even dig naturally nor comfortably. I was both a flying type and a ground type, yet I couldn't fly nor dig. What a silly and strange species I was!

I had almost run out of ideas. Leaving home and finding more rural options was possible, but that was last resort, leaving good company and home behind, as well making my parents worried sick! Berry farming was also out of town. The orphanage turned me down, either citing my inability to control others, or the fact I wasn't that much older than who I would be supervising. I couldn't use a tool well with my pincers, my education was hardly well enough to become a mon of proficient… well, ‘smart jobs,’ and even my pincers weren't strong enough to crack giant nuts. There’s no way I could contend with a Smeargle in scribing, gliding was nowhere as fast as what a real flier can obtain so being a delivery mon wasn’t likely, and stealing… I wasn’t sure I was ready to lie to my parents daily about what I was doing, because they would definitely have a problem with the amount of risk involved. I would well be amongst the worst who tried to become a lifter or construction worker if I tried, I got lost too much still to hope to become a guide, I couldn't act to save my wings…

My mother ended up laughing when I opened up about my failed mission, but then had to think hard about what I might be able to do. We're really good at ambushing prey in the forest, but the city doesn't do well with having their citizens murdered or assaulted. There's need of climbers, fliers and diggers, but each position is already filled to the brim with specialized mon. Nobody needs one mon that can do all three ineffectively. Education was just too costly for us, and so was hiring private teachers. Then there's the arena. I was still too weak and small to be even considered, even if I wanted to join. I didn't want to be violent, and I sure didn't need my father encouraged in his behavior and my mother more stressed than ever.

She asked me if I could sing a song. I didn't know any, so she told me to ask my father for one. He knew quite a few from what they sang in the stadium, anthems and whatnot. I would have to give it my best shot!

I could, actually, once I tried seriously in the repeat-after-me session…

_Sing._

An offbeat mention by my mother. Who knew? My father was… exceptionally proud, I guess. My mother heard, and told me to do it again. I got some of the lyrics mixed when on my own, but they were both careful listeners. My tone and pitch was never really tested before, and it was clear I had some talent, but I ran out of breath too much, and I felt like my voice was actually being strained after the second song. I couldn’t keep it up for long, but I had something to work with! I never disallowed myself from trying something new: after all, that was why my parents were not wild anymore. And I wasn't wild.

Teaching oneself singing was a near-hopeless task. Though my ears were sensitive compared to most mon, I didn't know what exactly to hear for, to determine which sound was bad and which ones were fine. The strange fluctuations was eventually smoothed out, but I felt my voice become strained even more as I compensated. Long term damage I could have imagined with poor technique, but having it so soon was troubling. Eventually my mother took me to events where I could hear other mon sing, one in particular where the mon was not able to sing instinctually, but it was difficult to see and hear the differences in technique. Singers use their whole body in singing, and had a certain posture. They also made a neutral face, rather than a happy one which I couldn’t help most of the time. Some were focused, eyes open, glancing around the audience a lot. Others looked at nothing in particular, and were very still.

My voice recovered day-by-day, but my struggles to gain expertise were clearly noticed. Getting training in such a specific field costs a fair bit, and we just started hitting a rough patch with father needing expensive medicinal berries. But my mother was shrewd, and managed to find details of the training that was provided. Most, it not all that we found, offered free training for the first session to see if I would actually like the mon who would be my teacher. The student must fit with the trainer for long-term sessions, and this was one way to sample.

I was instructed, though also forced, to give trust to my mother's plan. Instructors do not know the level of skill that new students come in with, so they adjust. I will do a sample run, doing a free training session with each teacher every two days, one day for rest. I would go under a different Gligar’s name, with their address memorized to give for callback information. This amount of secrecy was not due, I could have told her. But she wanted to repeat this in the future if the lessons I got were not enough. I suppose that's why I had known my mother as the actually smart one, but I did have the... fright of societal disobedience in my mind. We were clearly taking advantage of their generosity. To have this rogue behaviour encouraged might have nurtured this sense somewhat away after the ordeal. I think it helped.

The lessons were ultimately a bit too short for my liking, and oftentimes were mostly an introduction. My mother advised me to press for another free lesson so I would be actually able to sample their skills in teaching, but I was already a bit hesitant to the idea of lying at them. Each teacher declining my proposition gave me the idea that the first lesson, being mostly introduction, was merely a formality in being costless. Regardless, I was able to leave without the confrontation on payment, and I was always bid farewell to be seen the next day or so. I believed that was a good sign: all of them thought I was a good student, or simply a mon that was ideal to work with. I certainly gave them that idea, at least; my smiles for miles routine had fiercely taken a permanent place in my life, and helped a lot with getting smiles back.

The first few lessons were quick to point out the critical flaws in my singing, and I tried my best to note of ways for detecting mistakes that I could use on my own. Their advice was held back a little, as it was the first session after all, so of course I had to act hot-headed and ambitious to bring more out, affirming that I would be able to handle the withheld information dump and make use of it right away. I couldn't, but I still tried. They recommended postures, drinks for my throat, and ways to practice on my own; but most importantly, advised on giving my voice some rest from overuse. There was no ‘breaking’ into it, it is more of an ease-into skill and lifestyle. They told me how many hours I should practice with a vocalist or teacher, on my own and then what to expect if I wanted to take it further.

I was weary that my constant reappearance in their community would be bothersome or suspicious, but my mother taught me that it was perfectly acceptable: after all, I'm ‘sampling.’ They're were unlikely to even record my name at the first meeting. After the first two weeks, I gained a good place to start with to practice on my own. After knocking down the last teacher in the city, I even had some confidence. My hearing was biased, which meant that I couldn't completely rely on it, but it was sharp enough for me to determine when I'm swaying. Singing is now just practice, memorization, routine… and was finally my third hobby. 

At an early winters day, I volunteered myself to the air race. Simile City was sort of where all the major competitions are held due to its hub-like nature, as well as the fact it had a proper colosseum of enormous size. Many mon lived here just to watch or participate in the sports and tournaments. Point is, teams like to have their own anthem, something about how they're the best and the enemy can only come as close as second. Of course the actual racers had nothing to do with it, and few of them cared. Inside jokes that I weren't aware of were likely in a lyric or two. As I learned the songs, I realized that it was so hammy it had to be one big joke or a friendly jab to boost the competitive spirit rather than inspire hate. I didn't immediately realize that this event was for fun, as I was taking my duties seriously, but slowly the stress ebbed away. At least I might have some fun singing. 

The air races were a fair fit for me, as the races started at the side of a tall building, far above the streets. The birds simply perched there against the winds at the ready, while the non-fliers had to hang on to _something_ after exiting the building near the top. Those mon were usually the organizers, relatives or just usually polite event crashers. Getting up there myself merely required criss-cross gliding, but I ended up having to hang on to a large bird mon to stay there in the midst of the growing wind. Yes, I couldn't multitask gliding in harsh winds and maintain coherent singing, but I would eventually get better. Funnily enough, the racing bird wasn't bothered by the whole ordeal.

So I sang. I had been refining my instrument persistently in preparation, gave myself long rests and drank a strong clearing tea beforehand. The pressure was there, but soon gave away as the humor of the lyric caught up with most of them, doubly so when it was done by a new voice that likely didn't get it. The rapid tide of air did not weave the music kindly, but it was soon over. No clacking or sound of praise, just a brief murmur before another song came into play. This song had much more adult themes that I didn't get at the time. Then a third. This one was played by machine, as the singer was at home sick today. 

Then, the loud flutter of all the racers leaving in a paced hurry, leaving us slow pokes alone. We went to the tip of the tower, where a finishing circle was drawn and a small event gathered around it. Though my part was done and thanked for, it was still a great place to be around in. Taste berries were served in bulk, and there was some conversation there and there, mostly about their days and how the event was a nice fit to their schedules, as opposed to the racers or the songs. As per usual, I couldn't really talk that well, so I ate my berries in peace. Afterwards, when most of the racers had arrived back, I was appreciated to have came and I was welcomed to come back again, either as a guest or volunteer.

And I was paid. I wasn't expecting it, but it was apparently a tip for my service. Certainly, it was short notice and I didn't do one mistake, but did they think I had better things to do? I took it gladly, my first income from this seemingly strange investment in music. Maybe it was just charity, or pity, but it made me all the more enthused to keep going.

I arranged with my mother to find two more free lessons from the more obscure teachers that don't advertise. As well, I looked for other opportunities for those looking for an amateur. I had to become a lot more proactive to be able to live on my earnings. There were plenty of places open, but they were all looking for singing mon, not mon who could sing. I could advertise, but that would require an investment with money, of which I barely have any of. Word of mouth and advertisement can work just as much against me, I figured, because I was sure I was quite bad at singing compared to mon who were _designed_ just for that. A singing Gligar could be a comedic skit, and my attempts at jokes are more awkward than funny. Speaking of awkward and funny...

I was hired temporarily as a kite, where a passer-by wanted to see if a Gligar or Gliscor can function just as well as a well-made kite. I was trained to be wary of these offers, but since I didn't have any valuables to put to the side before the experiment, I decided to try it out. I was wildly thrown into the sky with a rope tied to my tail, and after being told to stop adjusting myself and remain still like a statue, they struggled trying to keep the rope as I complied and opened my wings fully against the wind. I eventually gave up as their constant tug-of-war was making the rope tie itself painfully tight. Back on the ground they mentioned that my ability catch air was what allowed me to easily get airborne on windy days… obvious, by the way. No kite had been able to pull the rope at such extremes, and they apparently held on to me in fear that I would get lost, as they had no idea how far I would go. They also took note at how easily I could maintain my position in the air beforehand, constantly counteracting the forces of the wind despite not being able to flap in place. They didn’t consider my aerojets, but it was reasonable to assume not every mon had them. I happily told them I was bored and wanted the money now, which I was then paid quickly then let go.

I then had enough money to pay for a real, non-introductory lesson in singing. Or I could have tried to spend it on a small advertisement in the papers. Or perhaps put into my family savings in case my father got injured again. I made an inquiry to the cost of a Razor Fang, but apparently the market was empty of it, past purchases soaring as many times more than we had in our total savings. Was it really that huge of a deal for some mon? Gligar from around the world must be desperate for one. I grew that much more appreciative of my mother saving a fang just for me.

Now, still, my life's been easy going. I had to figure out a way to get income, and I did, though so little I really only came for the excitement surrounding the competition. Being a singer there also made me get first… or second dibs with meeting the racers. They’re so cool! They were welcoming and encouraged me to speak, they were strong and we're modest. Most of them even came from outside the city, which surprised me that they would go so far just to get to Simile. One told me that me never having been outside the city was far more surprising, but I doubted that I was among few who were like that. The city had a large land coverage after all, and it wasn't all about needing new sights to see when I wandered around. I couldn't be missing much, I thought back then.

To the issue: though it's been only the air races and the odd amount of change found or given, I was still been able to relax and rely entirely on my father to get the family through the day. I didn't think I was able to push myself out my comfort zone without my mother to guide me, who became more and more of a parent as my interests in success increased. I shook at the thought that I was hardly able to sustain myself minimally, and that the life I've lived was far too artificial for me to adapt to the life of the wilds if it came to that. I didn't even know how the great wilderness outside the city was like. The latter could be tackled as a problem though, and after asking mother, she once again revealed herself to the sky as we ventured to the outskirts of the city during a session of light rainfall.

Inside the wilderness, there was no order. Everything grew where it wanted, where it could. Being under the forest line was quite a jarring spectacle, but I was excited nonetheless. The pitter-patter on the leaves was quite the unique sound when I first heard it, quite unlike the sound the rain makes on the buildings, and the crunchy whistles of the trees whisking in the breeze gave a soothing, calming chill. Our quiet gliding, silent in my mother's case, surprised a few wild mon as we took on random directions to explore. They weren't just concerned: they ran and sometimes screamed like their life meant on it. One mon tried to play dead, which we left alone after trying to talk to it for a whole minute. A beedrill got at me defensively, even though I yelled at the mon to stop. I got tackled against a tree as I dodged its initial tackle, but my attacker immediately retreated once my mother pinched the beedrill’s arm off. A thick liquid came out… it was yucky for me back then.

After that, I thought rhe forest was filled with anti-social delinquents! After, I asked my mother questions, what life is like out here, do mon really eat other mon, could anyone actually talk…

My mother decided to teach me how to optimally climb trees, and how Gligar usually hunted. I had to disguise myself with forest leaves, place myself either up on a branch or the side of the tree, then fling myself at a mon’s face and attack attack attack. Specifically, cling, scratch and pinch. As I did the prescribed routine to the injured beedrill as the mon came around again, dazed and swaying, I felt… instincts come up. It didn’t really take over, but it felt irresistible. I used anger that I never thought I had in my strikes, and an unexpected amount of grit in my mind forced me to focus. My usual smile was likely giving off a venomous vibe, at least according to my mother.

I immediately stopped myself after finally making a successful gash on the panicking mon’s head. _I hurt him_. The bug immediately countered with a stinger aimed at my eye, which my mother was able to catch and snap off too. The beedrill screamed in agony as the cut was higher this time, close to the shoulder. Not as much liquid came out this time. Low blood pressure. My mother seemed unmoved by the yelling, while I just stared at the scene until it literally died down. Some of the liquid got on me, but my mother told me to wash it later. 

Then came the test of berries, but I did not have any trouble determining what each wild berry was: father taught me them already… or at least, made me want to remember what each did. I could tell mostly from the feel and shape of the berries, and as a last resort, taste. Licking, really. The skin or membranes of the berries had a different taste than its contents.

The next test. My climbing around trees was awkward, but fast. I was accustomed to climbing buildings for most of my life, and it was showing, but my claws were apparently adept at grabbing on to the wood. Comparing myself to a Gliscor’s ability, or at least my mother's, did as much aspiration as it did anxiety; I couldn't help feeling that a tail that can grasp is way too awesome and useful, and I'm missing out on a lot on convenience without one. Like missing a hand.

She answered more questions as we headed home. She was happy that I had an interest in the wild life, but was unamused when I told her that I didn't think she should have killed the beedrill, particularly when it wasn't even for survival. She told me how lucky I am that I never had to kill another mon before, lest hurt one until today. She apologized if I thought she forced me to do it.

She told me why there's civilization and why there's not, why we speak and why they kept silent, why they don't switch and why we won't either. It went over my head at the time, but what I did remember that it was true that mon do kill other mon out there, but the reasons are varied and mostly justified. Generally: accidents can happen… or a pokemon tries to steal from you. If there are no more berries, they must eat other mon that are digestible to survive. The main game in the wild was to hold territories that had berries growing, _usually_ , and the more mon that are in your pack together, or coexisting with you on your territory, the quicker that resource depletes. Otherwise, for those that are banished from those groups due to food shortage or those that are just loners, they must be sneaky enough to take and get away from it. Hint, my parents were quite the thieves. But as you know, causing your enemy to faint and dragging them off your perhaps newly acquired territory is the usual way of settling disputes, and only the desperate would try again, risking that the land holder would not kill repeat visitors. Attacking other wild mon was not sustainable for food, and eating non-poisonous berries was a million times safer than doing battle. It was a fairly simple system, so maybe I made some correct assumptions in asking if the reason why we're different was because our way of living was more complex and varied. But even barbarians had organization.

Something in the brain, she would say over and over. My parents made the switch, and they can recall what they did in the wild, but they're not sure if they really did any real thinking. Their switch was caused by the exposure to tasty berries given by samaritans over the course of a month, and eventually started to respond to what they were asking-- causing them to _think_. My parents were effectively tamed, which never sounded right in my mind. The biggest reason why they were pulled into society was because no Gliscor lived in the city, and Simile City was a city that prided itself on variety of pokemon. They also likely wanted to know of any sources of Razer Fangs out there, but they kept tight lipped thankfully.

It’s strange that we had this intellectual capability all this time, yet it was mostly used for _fighting_ and _territorial management_. The wilds had a reactive lifestyle, while the city or town life requires at least some proactiveness. In other words, I mean, in her words: their instincts ruled them, while we mastered ours… or at least, coexisted with them. Temporary switches from their feral mindsets were rare, and switches going back to the wild from a life in civilization were even rarer, and were mostly stress and depression related. I could see why the simple life would be enticing, at least.

She also said that she and my father killed a fair amount of mon in their day, and she guessed that half were accidental and the other half was for food. That didn't exactly place her in a better light, but it was a whole other life she lived back then. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her either. I thanked her for her journey into the city life, as I couldn't imagine a happy life out there for me. If only I knew, she almost muttered to herself. My thanks instead belonged to the city itself for welcoming mean-looking gliding bugs into its fold.

It was the dead of day, and so my mother joined my father in sleep. I left and went to my private singing practice as per usual after being told to eat a heal berry for my bruises. Two hours of singing, with breaks spent watching clouds, seeing them shove each other in a race to the horizon. I went and got complimentary tea from a protest event against the Psychic School, also taking a free questionable snack from them, and then glided in a large U across the shoreline during the cloudy sunset, slowly warming up to the challenge of flying and singing at the same time. Sometimes… it's weird, but I wondered if a giant mon would suddenly explode out of the water in a huge, lightning fast lunge at me. But you know, I wasn't that nutritious!

Life returned to normality for a few days. The mon who had me tested as a kite tried yet another experiment with me: whether a kite could attract lightning. As a Ground-type, I would be absolutely unharmed by the ordeal, and nobody on the ground should be either. I was about to suggest getting a Ground-type to _hold_ an artificial kite, but it would've went over their heads, and I wanted money. They didn't oversee the weather problem until I had to point directly at the sunny sky, and I had to come back when there was more of a storm brewing outside. Maybe they knew the next day would be stormy… whatever.

There were some spectators, mostly bird mon who were drying off under awnings. I think I made quite a few skip a heartbeat when a deafening zap struck me from behind. I honestly thought that the end of the long thin rope was struck, not I who was attached, but there was definitely heat coming from the thin parts of my tail and back, the superheated air rapidly spreading and evaporating my coat of water from the rain instantly. I was facing away from the thunder, but my ears and heat receptors weren't so lucky. 

I apparently yelped loudly, as I could not hear myself while others can, and wobbled a fair bit in the air as the effects cooled off in the rain. As a ground-type, I’m immune from the internal damage electricity causes, but I was still vulnerable to its furious other effects. I was later tugged by the rope to the ground, and nearly force-fed a heal berry when they noticed the burns along the tail, as well as my complete absence of understanding on what they were saying. The only worse feeling of becoming suddenly deaf is getting it back just as fast: the quick, loud pops of pressure and internal reconstruction of my auditory organs as the berry did its work. I couldn't grab my ears in protest either: you learn at a young age that grabbing yourself with any sort of force easily causes your parts to be either cut open or fall off when your hands are weapons.

I was paid thereafter, some bird mon commenting how lucky I am that my organs weren't fried to a crisp. Most of the attention was congratulating the large Eevee who once held the rope, now a sobbing Jolteon who shortly sped away... oh well. As the small crowd dispersed as they moved underground, the experimenter stayed with me until I felt the shock wear off. The heat was _searing_ , I swear, but it only gave me a taste of what could be true pain. Still, fire-type moves won’t necessarily match the temperature electricity can, but fire lasts long enough to _damage_. I had been closer to serious injury before from learning how to glide, but this whole experiment was certainly an avoidable risk. I’ve been a bit more careful since, just in time too, as unfortunately this was likely the last day of my childhood.

When I arrived home that night, only my mother was home, seeming like anybody but herself. She returned to her state of vicious boredom as she eyed her papers with her usual venom, but hesitantly told me to stay with her. I obliged, and rested on her inner torso, feeling the precise movements of her flipping the pages and moving the paper close to where I could see as well. I think it was mostly about the Psychic School again, so you'll have to ask Phoenix for details about that. I got bored, climbed around and scratched my mother's head a bit. She gave up reading after I made her sleepy from the scratching, and instead hugged me close and started to scratch me. Whenever I did anything affectionate, she always tried to repay it 2 times over. I quickly fell asleep.

We rested together for a few hours, until she woke up to a noise I couldn't hear. Whatever it was, it wasn't important, but she did wake me from her startlement. She was about to resume her readings, moving on to a thick book rather than loose papers, when I asked how father was. Where was he?

Her heart must have been broken in two. Tense, startled and saddened. I saw her expression briefly, a tiny bit relieved that she was herself again, and I think I tried to apologize, but she already told me to stop. After a pause, she bluntly that he was in the hospital. He was injured. Sorry.

...Of course I asked questions after. Will he make it out? Yes. Was it the arena? Yes. When did this happen? A few hours before you came home. Why didn't you tell me? I was looking for the right words, maybe you would panic. 

Maybe a nap is what we both needed. Hugging each other definitely made us relaxed. But insidious unemotional thoughts crept up, so I had to address them.

Will he be able to return to the arena? I don't know. Perhaps never.

How long is he staying? I don't know. A few months minimum. Nobody with the kind of injury he got ever got an early leave.

How will we get money? I don't know. You don't earn enough, we only have enough savings to last a week. We're lucky the arena paid for his hospital stay.

I want to see him. Yes, but he prefers if you didn't see him like his is.

Regardless of her insistence, I wanted to see my father again. I didn't care what shape he was in, or if he was in a shape at all, he needed hugs and he needed to see me. All he could probably think about was me, right? They've done this all for me so far. My mother mentioned that she won't come with me, she already visited and he already told her to stay home. She told me to take a few surprise items, and to prepare myself.

And I did, the next morning when I wasn't at the edge of sleeping. My mother had unearthed the Razor Fang, and got me a piece of candy that's meant to go with it. She told me that with these two together, I would evolve. I had both items in my small bag now, rustling together with a few sweets and heal berries for my father, just in case they weren't treating him right. Despite the rough patch yesterday, I was not in a bad mood… or perhaps, the closest I could ever get to a bad mood. I was happy to know he's still okay, that I finally got the Razor Fang and that I was going somewhere new that I was told to avoid before. But darn if I couldn't see the end of _my_ world happening when the next fees were due.

When I saw my father, though, I nearly jumped on him. Yes, I was worried! I wasn't numb to negative emotions, I was just an optimist. A smiler. So, my father had a grim smile, I remember. He probably thought me not seeing his lower body and most his wings anywhere would spook me, but I'm sure I at least brightened his day when I threw my bag on the floor and allowed him to embrace me. He commented how great I was like usual, but he had a more foreboding tone this time. I gave him a weeks worth of scratches before I realized he was actively trying to wiggle free from what limited mobility he had.

Then we finally got to actually talking. I asked if he was feeling alright. Kinda, I feel pain in parts I don't have anymore. Will you get them back? It will take some time, since we're ground types, we grow slow. Why don't they just reattach the other part? Because the other part was burnt to ash. Oh… you'll be out within a week, right? No, in a few months.

Oh.

He said we needed a talk about that. You'll need to get the Razor Fang. I have it. Oh, why? Mother got it for me. Don't use it here. Why would I use it?

Do you want to evolve?

I don’t honestly know. Everything that I love about the world in my prospective, myself and my family could be torn apart. I don’t think I’m ready. I probably said this in a more childlike manner that I can't remember, but my father understood it at least.

You aren't. You're only a year old. Just recently a year old. That's a problem.

I nodded in acknowledgement, though not quite agreement. From what I read, evolution quickens physical and mental maturity. 

What has mother told you?

That I will change.

Your voice will change especially. You might not be able to sing as well.

Oh no… why?

When me or your mother sounds scary, it’s… not always intentional. We’re made to be scary.

But what else would I do?

Your mother would want you to flee to the forests. Rejoin the wild until I recover and then fetch you wherever you are.

But I can’t switch. I won’t, I might die!

That's good that you think that, but that... leaves you with my idea. You will have to just take my place in the arena.

What! No! I’m not… a violent mon!

Please don't give me… that face. Please. You can't say no to both. And honestly, I'm not asking you, I'm asking the Gliscor you will become.

And if I don't become one?

I suppose you'll be dragged off into the wilds by mother, or forcefully booted out by the authorities. You know what time will decide for you if you let it choose.

Why don’t we find something else I can do?

Then give me ideas. 

Hauling? Babysitting? Smart stuff? Each of them he shook his head. We were exceptional in nothing.

Anything else? None of us has the heart to kill for business, especially her. Our talent in thieving is running away when we’re in trouble, not hiding. We can’t hide in a city. We fight. 

But, maybe…!

We can't fly. We can't dig. We can't change our species, and we can't change our minds. We're stuck.

But… fighting isn’t necessary.

Against or with it, you’ll be fighting either way eventually. All mon are meant to fight one way or another. Listen, you have a week to decide. Evolve, have fun, then decide. Even if you lose, you will get us through one more day with the honorary pay. Mother can teach you some fighting, she's rusty but she’s better than me in teaching.

Father, will it be painful?

None of the fighters will actually try to kill you, but you will have to impress all the same if you take _my_ place. That's it.

Can you stop answering like that?!

You already know the answer, I’m just putting my own stuff on top of it.

Fine… okay.

Don't be sad! Really, like I said, maybe as a Gliscor you'll figure out something else. Maybe you'll be happy running off to the wilds or replacing me in the arena. Either way, you're not changing you without us telling you to, so that's what we're going to have to do. He crossed his arms.

I said okay again, looking away. It hurt to realize… well, I actually had the decision, but they always knew best. And I listened. They should not be wrong now, plus I suppose I owed him a lot for how much he supported us. A lot of trust was due. 

I remembered about the berries I saved for him, but he quickly declined. I left him, clutching the bag I almost forgotten inside. That was it. Childhood over. It was hard to brighten up, as the worst had yet to come. Yes, I had a whole year of fun, but now it seems like I will be heading to the unknown for the rest of my life. Fighting, the wilds, being more independent… it was all scary stuff for the city mon I was back then.

My father told me that it’s awkward to go back and ask questions after you left in a purposeful manner already, but I probably should have asked how to use the fang. I thought mother could help with that. I wouldn't dare try to evolve without at least some guidance on what to expect, but at the same time, that was what they were showing all my life to me. Viscous, scary, deadlier, bigger, cunning… uncaring… or, perhaps that was just them. They grew up in the wilds, after all.

Still, how would the process even go? I could perhaps find a paper or even a book that had information about my species, but… that would have been a little too much. There might have been even misinformation, going on by how rare Gliscor were. If it was a ritual I was supposed to know naturally, I had no idea. Was it really to just hold the Fang and eat the candy? I had doubts, and keeping mysteries from me never got me to do anything. My mother would know, and she would no doubt explain.

When I arrived home, mother was fast asleep. Right, midday. This will become my regular time to sleep too. Any sort of large derivation in anymon’s sleep schedule would be uncomfortable on the mind. Still, whether evolution made it that way to forcefully separate the hunting times of Gliscor and Gligar, or because that was when Gliscor were simply most effective, in the end, they could only decide whether to sleep comfortably at home or bear the exhaustion. They could adjust slowly overtime as anyone else could, but neither of them wanted to nor had the commitment. They had the common night-vision advantage in fighting in the arena at dark, and flying silently through the night sky was safer and faster than one would think when you are the mon most fear to be ambushed by. They also liked it, and that was reason enough for me to not budge on bothering them about it.

I myself had no problem sleeping at awkward times, though I was young and malleable. I had never once tried to force my sleep times to be like my parents’; they always told me not to, and keep it natural. I thought it had to have been frustrating though, being asleep when most mon in the city were awake.

Singing was still in my mind, even after all the thought I put into giving it up during my glide home. I wished I could do it without waking up mother, so I did the same breathing tempo and mouthed it instead. A few quiet whistles of air came out with the airflow, but it wasn't enough for me to register how well I was doing the silent songs justice. Strange, I think I thought, I always sounded better in my head. Maybe I would always have my inner voice this way even as a Gliscor.

I went out for a gentle glide after my wings started to feel lazy. I accidentally sailed on a rather strong updraft, probably from the underground thermal getting some relief, and I got a good view of the whole city. It was a rare sight to see by accident. As I gazed around, I caught wind of some smoke to the East, coming from a tall building. Beside the physic school. I had my heart jump, but I was at relative ease as it was nowhere close to where I lived. I wasn't exactly curious, but on a tad approach, I started smelling a horrible amount of ash. I opened my wings fully, and rode the wind away like the kite some thought I was. Again, ask Phoenix about that, but I did at least get to see that fire.

That fire…

Oh well. I arrived back at home and my mother was now reading the tiniest book I ever saw. Her eyes looked strained reading it with a furrowed brow, but her short smirk gave me the feeling that it had interesting stuff. I prodded her until she was distracted away, and she heard me out. However, she was helpless. She evolved in her sleep. She had no Idea how the Razor Fang actually worked, just that you must have it during nighttime. Father was training when he evolved, so she figured having the fang and eating the candy would trigger it for me.

Oh. The candy gave you training? Kinda yes and kinda no, it’s rare but there are even rarer candies and berries that can likely fit more to that description. I asked if she wanted to watch, help me if something goes wrong. Nothing will go wrong, so long as you have some space. You will also be spending a lot of your energy growing, so you'll be right away hungry, so don't go far. I still asked whether she wanted to watch, but she says she prefers it to be up to me. She herself would hate showing herself evolving, but she proposed it's because she didn't want others to think that the before and after would be the same mon. At least, not directly after seeing the transformation.

I will know it's you somehow, a parent always knows. I couldn't fool _anyone_ when I did.

So it was up to me whether I wanted her there, or keep it private. I was honest, I asked mostly for her sake, as perhaps I would need her and she might be interested, but as she insisted otherwise, I said farewell and departed to my planned area where I would evolve. Not the sea, haha, the top of the building where the air races were held. Not the fondest memories I had, but the height was wonderful. I could glide to most of the city around the tower, and as a Gliscor, maybe all the way home. It was also safer than even my home, as the tower was purely structural in functionality. The good views were blocked by tall buildings, and there's nothing to do there unless an event was set up. Also it was tiresome to reach the top of if you were not a flier.

I landed near the middle of its height, and climbed the rest through the shadowed route to the top of the building, following a familiar route. I met with a large flat space which allowed plenty of room for activities. I relaxed a bit, letting the wind flutter my wings and ears gently, staring at the brightening stars as the sun began setting. The slight shriek of passing air was always my favourite sound, a most unrefined melody of the world at work.

This wasn't a time to be prepared for. Rather, it was the time to become prepared. I had at least realized this as I looked at the Razor Fang more closely, toying with it a bit.

During my time of study of my parents, I learned the less physical and mental changes I would endure and welcome. The fascination of wind was inherent in all Gli, as its folding, twisting and sudden lurches was fundamental to our journeys and livelihood. As our wingspan increases and our weight plummets, becoming a Gliscor meant being more sensitive to a breeze’s machinations. No doubt, personification, but more than how othermon curse the weather for raining down on their day, more than how I saw the wind as a mad god bent on making my travels interesting rather than just flat out more challenging. Something that's more a part of you. Something you will miss when it's been gone for a bit. A spiritual change I didn't understand, but fits the phrase “I am the wind” like a chorus to life. As it travels around the world, so could we.

It was a stupid thought process, but it certainly passed the time until night arrived. After, I thought about how I would evolve, and the chose the closest thing to ‘doing it in parts.’ I was to lie down completely still, evolve and then move one body part at a time until I was comfortable. It shouldn't be that bad; many mon evolved during life-or-death fights and still manage well, so maybe I was overdoing it. Perhaps I should have evolved while gliding… my father would have definitely suggested that, and watched it too if he could.

A better reason to evolve lying down was the night sky. I had gazed at it plenty, and it had been a familiar constant in my life. If I watched it once more, maybe it would stay that way. It was all just dots to me, but there were plenty that saw it differently, with more meaning and sense. Or just plain different, there were plenty of mon that had strange eyesight.

It munched the candy, but didn't yet swallow. I thought to myself: I wished I could have been doing this for myself, but that was okay. Maybe it would be more fun this way. I swallowed, and gave out a slow melodic lyric. Just… one last bit of singing. One last bit of fun.

I waited. I kept my eyes trained on some random constellation, hoping maybe it would lull me to sleep, and I would just wake up as someone else. I think it almost did hypnotize me, but for _some unforeseen reason_ , I started to get _uncomfortable_ . I had what felt like a splitting stomach ache, and gained what felt like the hunger of the gods. My bag was near, so I popped some previously rejected calorie berries in. It was ill-advised to ever take more than one at the time, but to heck with that, it was painful and it wasn't going away. I had taken every single one. I think there were seven? All of them. About a week's worth of food. The heal berries were eaten too, but they weren't really nutritious. It took about… 20 seconds? My tummy settled down at last. _Now_ I was definitely sleepy. Perhaps I should have dreamed.

Again the stomach ache returned, and it felt like it was splitting again. It was like my belly rapidly digested the berries, and was simultaneously drained into a hungry vacuum. Being completely empty-handed in food, I groaned and toughed it out. When my midsection actually did split in two, I realized the wait was finally over.

_May darkness divulge you,_

So I had a lot of things happening at once. I was overwhelmed by a much more pleasant sensation… like stretching after a long sleep, but times like 10 because it didn't stop. My vision turned fuzzy and narrow, like the blood was shifting away from my head. My body kept phasing in and out of an energetic high to a near sleep-deprived state, in the same tune as my heart rate, as if I was being filled then quickly cleaned out. My limbs, the back of my body and my pectines all felt numb, and all I could hear was a deafening pitch. My senses were shot, essentially, as my body reconstructed itself.

_may wind whirl you,_

Then, as my deprivation of reality reached its peak, it started to return briefly. My wings merged into one, and had detached from my arms and instead hung permanently from my shoulders. More interesting was the scraping along the ground, as if I'm being dragged along in… every direction. My senses snapped back, and all I could take in of the world was the blurry night sky.

_may foes fear you,_

A full 15 seconds since my midsection snapped. I still tried my best to stare at a single star or constellation, but I couldn’t see much and my vision was narrow. It felt awful, though, like I was having a hard fever all of a sudden. My head and brain was obviously changing structure, but as it did, blood seemed to return to my head and eyes, and my vision cleared up. And it kept clearing up, blurring occasionally before it cleared up more again. I suddenly realized that the stars were appearing brighter and sharper, and more stars seemed to just fade in and follow suite. The sky was getting rather crowded very quickly, and it was bewildering me and confusing me. Not just the stars themselves though, but… the faraway blue.

**Color.**

_may silence save you._

The orange afterglow of the sun's departure, the lasting greens of the hills at the side of my vision, all of it intensifying and becoming impossible to ignore. My heartbeat and breathing pretty much lost all composure after that. It effectively distracted me from the rest of the changes, mind a few. A tiny pincer forming at the end of my tail gave me a sharp yelp as the new controllable connection formed, and the scraping underneath me became bothersome as I started to feel the ground again. The numbing sensation probably saved me from the unpleasantness of having my entire nervous system rebuilt, and likely from a lot of pain too, but it was too overwhelming to take everything at once, even just the introduction to the concept of _color_.

_Gligar. Gliscor. Fang scorpion._

I still felt hungry, but thankfully not so much that I would consider eating myself alive. I can't pretend to even consider the notion that nothing had changed, because _everything did_. Even my breathing, after my heartbeat finally settled down, was much slower, yet more powerful than it used to. The stars were more beautiful than it ever was, but the lingering new changes around my body bothered me too much. I thought about how I would introduce myself to it, so I thought that looking at my new pincers would be a start.

I overshot. My arm was significantly longer, and at the end was a much thicker, meaner looking purple pincer. The red arm attached to it was thin, much more than my parent's or what I could imagine on a Gliscor. With my other arm, I lightly pinched it, confirming its new length was real. I felt a certain energy from it, which both felt relaxing and also felt _strong_. Lifting up my now much larger pincer was nearly effortless, compared to the weight it had before when I swung them around to grab something. The sensation of being stronger gave me fuzzy bunnies in the tummy, but it was still to get better.

I focused more on my senses. My pectines felt much larger and sensitive, but can still be sheathed easily. Odors were much more easily recognizable, to be sure, and the pheromones I myself was emitting was especially strong as well, but I couldn't be sure it's because I was now physically mature, or that it's just more sensitive. Both, I would figure out later.

My aerojets, which allowed me to accelerate in the air without flapping, was now fully developed too, and seemed to radiate with compressed air and aerocells. It seemed to be much more massive and had many more aerogills along my back to recharge it. The freedom it could provide must be amazing, but I had to be wary of its increased costs. I should never need to depend on it fully, as I rarely see my parents use theirs.

My hearing was obviously enhanced, but the sound of wind was actually quieter now. This would make hearing during flight easier. The individual sounds around the city were obviously much more apparent and discernable instead of a general mumble, and my own breaths sounded more forceful and paced. I could imagine the amount of oxygen this body needed.

My sense of taste was uselessly tested, though licking around, I found many new teeth jabbing into my lip. Sharper, longer, and… stranger? There were new holes there, and it took me a few seconds to find out that they were elemental conduits. Sharper teeth, on fire? On _ice_? It scared myself more than it should.

My eyes were of course the most improved. Night was like day, and I could now see as far as many flying mon could. There was just more of everything to look at, more detail that I could possibly discern at a glance. It would take time for me to get used to picking apart objects from afar like this.

And finally the sensation of feel. The wind moved around me, around my shape, making ignoring my new form a difficult task, but the subtleties of the wind was ever more noticeable. Gliding, I thought, would feel twice as awesome now, not to mention easier with the more in-flight tunings I could do to match with my more sensitive wings.

I looked down, and saw a new breastplate covering my upper torso. I lifted my tail to see it, and… it was big. Even relatively, the amount of mass within what seemed like a purple bead chain had me a little baffled. My parents regularly used their tails to hop around and launch themselves into the air to catch an air drift, and now I see why it was so easy. My legs seemed to have changed shape, too, becoming flatter and thicker, but compared to the hops I could do now, it will likely just be delegated to just landing and short walks.

My wings changed as well, I nearly forgot. It had moved from my inner arms to my shoulders and back, and felt a lot… thicker? It's probably meant to now be able to be hit in battle and still allow me to glide. The hugely increased wingspan made me a bigger target, and the new resilience is likely the result. The new muscle connection in the wing was completely new, being no longer controlled by my arms, and would take the longest to getting used to. But still, the amount of air I could catch with it was a definite upgrade.

And finally, what I feared. I spoke, tried to give out the same tune out as I did before evolving. Darker, deeper, louder, rougher, more than I could have imagined. The happy pitch I once had was replaced by a tone that was more intimidating and... evil than I could ever feel comfortable with. I could easily scare myself with it, if not for the silly things I can make myself say. That was a positive thought, knowing I had control on how much I would be scary. Maybe. Still, deep inside, I knew I wanted to keep trying. Make it work. 

It was finally time to stand. As I bent forward, I noticed my red midsection, where the evolution started. I felt it with my pincer, again feeling its new proportions. I was more confused than scared that every single part of my body was different, but it was bound to help in so many ways. I could do what my parents could do now. I just needed to give it a go.

Standing now on my feet, I almost tripped looking down. Thanks to my eyes evolving further apart, everything looked smaller, but it was more than just seeing what seemed like a tiny version of my bag on the ground. I couldn't quite grasp it fully, I needed a better measurement than what the barren roof could provide. Certainly, though, it felt good. This good feeling never left me, either, coming from deep within my psyche.

What better measurement than my parents? Well, the objects I constantly pass by, or perhaps I could find another pokemon who had a similar size to my parents. Or my parents themselves. Darn. I had so many questions anyways, so it wasn't the time to shy away from confrontation. _I wanted confrontation, see if I'm any better now than when I was..._

Taking my first steps, of course everything would feel off, but I nearly noticed right away why: my unsupported limbs shook. I kept overcompensating, and so I couldn't force my body still. Twitches were common. I was in no flying condition, delicacy was an even bigger requirement after gaining so much more wingspan and sensitivity to the air. The thought of winging my first _real_ gliding session would have to wait, but as father said, I still had some time.

Climbing down, I had the opportunity to use my new third pincer. It really was like a third arm, though much longer and stronger. It didn't, however, have the most ideal grasp. Combined with the lightness of my new body, climbing was now a surprisingly easy activity. I accidentally chipped the stone a few times, and I couldn't catch the pieces that fell out before it left my reach, so I had a lot of more advanced coordination to learn too.

Walking home after that would have been embarrassing had I known that I would have been already home if I took the aerial path, but it arranged a better working relationship with my legs at least. The shakes didn't stop, though. Pinching myself into calmness didn't hurt as much as before, but made myself bleed much faster thanks to… being sharper and deadlier. Learning to be gentle would be my biggest task, and one that I will struggle to learn until I die, most likely. The thought of having strength to spare didn't bother me too much.

A sense of claustrophobia dimly hit me as I walked through what used to be familiar streets. The many kinds of new variety of colors made my return slow and distracting, and I certainly indulged. I liked the color bright green the most, while my least favourite was dark purple… the color of my exterior. If only I was shiny, huh?

The night was quiet today, and few mon came by. I immediately noticed how they saw me: caution and fear. That pleases me for some reason, and I… hated it. Was it the old me or the new me that hated it? Casual conversation, should I want it, was a far-gone dream now. Perhaps I should have made more friends when it was easy, but at least my family were the best friends I could hope for. Again, thinking on that, I hastened my pace. Did they still see me as a friend, or even family, after my evolution? Of course they did, but they will obviously treat me differently, I was sure of it.

I had to find the big hole into the caverns that my parents used after finding my usual entrance to have shrunk dramatically. I wondered what kind of monolithic mon wouldn't be able to fit in the big hole, but at that point they could just make their own. I've made plenty of my own as a Gliscor, sure, but my point stands.

I made it home. Close, at least. I heard my mother humming, which she likely does when she reads the paper when she knows she was all alone. Strangely, did she not hear me getting closer? I purposely tapped the ground with no difference. I was about to yell to see if she could still hear, but then I remembered it was sleeping time for most mon in the cave system. They would be out for blood… or at least, a harsh exchange of words.

When I neared the entrance, she stopped her humming. She knew someone different was there. I stopped walking, and now she knew that I heard her stop too. I wasn't nervous, but every old bone in my body wanted me to be, because I used to expect myself to be that way. Everyone wanted you to be predictable, after all, so you can't exactly spin your outward character in a heartbeat. Still, I had more courage than I used to, so I kept walking forward. The worst that could happen didn't sound so bad anymore.

Who is there? It's me, mum, I said in a completely unfamiliar voice. Are you… sure?

Yes… well maybe not anymore. You don't know, huh. Why don't you see then for yourself then? I had yet to look at a mirror, but maybe she could still see some part of me left. There wasn't any point in avoiding the truth now.

First I heard her echo, to which I responded, then her eyes peeking around the wall. A flash of yellow fright, then a second later a retreat into cover. Was my eyes now also so distinctly yellow too? Yep, she said, your… smile changed, but... it's still there. Kinda.

I echoed, and saw her leaning against the wall. Even my echoes were more powerful and detailed. I asked why she was scared.

You look scary. Scarier than your father. And you’re… twice as tall as us too. And you look really strong. And your voice...

Twice as tall. I had to mull a bit on that. It meant I was 4 times bigger than them. It meant that my thoughts of me being relatively lighter but actually heavier was right. It meant my evolution went wrong somehow. I asked her, with perhaps too much accidental venom, what happened to me?

I don't know, she said. I'm sorry if I forced this on you, really.

Somehow her words pinched me, and I quickly replied whether she would be sorry if I didn't evolve from the fang.

No, she said. You got it first try. I'm just scared that you would be violent, like how after your father evolved.

I'm not, I promise. Violence was never an option that I had in mind before, and I felt ill at the thought of attacking my parents… but at the same time, it wasn't unreasonable to think I was still not able to defend myself. The thought stuck ever since.

She shook herself off from the wall, and around the corner. Why was she so frightened? I could see her gazing away from me before meeting my eyes again with quickly diminishing courage. I really needed a mirror to see what's wrong with me, but before that, I had to try and be a Gligar one more time.

I quickly hopped to her and gave her a gentle hug. Incidentally, I also lifted her off the ground easily. She was as stiff as rock, before giving in to it and relaxing. Finally.

She gave a short laugh, saying how sudden the situation had reversed, and how much I reminded her of being a small Gligar, borrowing into her mother's comfy midsection. The feeling was mutual, as I felt hugging my mother gave a much more stranger feeling of… family? Was it the fact that I was stronger than her now, and it was my turn to ‘care’?

She hugged me tightly for a moment, and said she was sorry for the loss of my voice. It's alright, it was my decision. My risk.

After a moment, I let her break free. I explained what happened, the transformation, color and the shakes. She explains that the shakes were normal, but the unnatural hunger and its result on me would be better explained by a doctor. Maybe. I asked what had changed on me, so she told me that my smile changed to be more sinister, like my voice, and that my presence really was quite overwhelming, either by my size or the amount of pheromones I was producing. I asked what the pheromones was saying, if anything, and all she told me was ‘ready.’ I was, of course, now in need of some special education, but that would come later. 

So maybe it would be best to go see my father. Either he knew what happened to me, or one of the doctors who cared for him did. They had to know a Gliscor’s body by now. Mother gave me a red stimulant berry to stop the shaking for now, and guided me outside. She showed me quickly how to launch with my tail, though all that I managed to do was create a hole into the ground as it gave away to the weight of my tail. Thus it begins, hehe.

When I had good ground, I launched way above the rooftops and buildings. It fascinated me that I could apply such force now. Having my gliders permanently out now, I had to immediately reinstigate my battle with the wind. It felt much harsher now, yet at the same time I was much more confident in my movement. That was strength, really, not the feeling that you are able, but the confidence that your body can do it if you allow it. Maybe that's the same thing, but in the air, it was more about skill. And as unskilled I thought I was as a Gligar, my new body certainly was, and very soon I was already speeding towards the hospital. The shaking would have been disastrous had I still had it, for sure. The brief calmness in the air inspired a few more tunes out, but it still came out painful and distorted from its original emotion.

It was surreal to have so much control of where I wanted to go now. I cut through the opposing winds like a blade, and ever so slightly managed an ascent to meet with the hospital’s rooftop. By arranging ascents every so often, I reconsidered the myth that a Gliscor could glide around the world without flapping once. We couldn't flap well anyways, we would use aerojets when we need to get higher, but I think if I carried some wake berries and some light food, it might be manageable. Maybe.

I gave a hard landing on the hospital roof, feeling my legs withstand the shock. It didn't hurt, which made me quite happy… and kept adding on to my pile of confidence boosters. _What couldn't I do?_ Perhaps now I'm good at fighting now too, but violence still irked me, though not as much. It was what I will have to eventually do. The earlier I face it, the sooner I can battle effectively.

The yellow building was divided in color-coded sections based on the sizes of the patients, and so fitting in the passageway of my fathers section was difficult. I had a bit more nimbleness as a Gliscor, but I still barely made it through with my torso being fairly constricted throughout. The staff wasn't amused, but thankfully it was already a slow day with no disasters having yet to occur. Mon who were at the fire managed to evacuate quickly, and the extra staff that came at the call were greeted with a fairly normal day instead.

Inside his room, I found his haybed, with a nodded-off look on his face. It had to be so boring here. His ears did twitch to the new footsteps in the room, so he was at least conscious. He turned sleepily away. I wondered how I managed to gain such easy access to the building, now standing right in front of the patient I was looking for. Did they assume I was family? 

His lower half was covered in sheets, and with his wings folded, he was able to rest on his back. Had he moved at all, though? His wet covers around his head either told me they washed him or… well, I never saw my father cry. He liked his solitude, sometimes better than other times. I wanted to feel sad for him, but something held me back.

I tried something silly. As opposed to how I appeared to my mother, I had the complete initiative here. I crouched down and put my face directly in front of his. Right in front. My breaths would wake him up, and he would wake up to a really big friendly face. How I forgot that I looked completely different, I had no idea. Neither he or I forget the scare since then. Maybe I somehow felt like I wanted to spook him? I guess my new instincts had more control over than I thought.

So yeah, he felt my breaths. His eyes were half open, blinked for a solid second, and then were very big with very contracted pupils. I noticed his bite into his lip as he stared, and finally breathed out when he remembered who I most likely was.

Hello.

Hi.

You're big.

I'm a Gliscor now. _I'm a Gliscor now._

That's right, I… didn't… I guess you're wondering why?

Because of the Fang.

No, I mean, you're… height.

You know why?

It's completely random, but it does happen. Evolution is different for everyone, and you're rolling dice to see how good it gets.

So I'm super lucky?

Yes. I mean, maybe. Size means a lot in fighting.

Yes?

But you’re also a bigger target.

Can we talk about something other than arena fighting?

No yet. Two things. Three things. First, have a quick checkup to see if any complications happened during your transformation. Second, you need to go train with your mother to get any real use of that body of yours, and once you do, third, I think you will easily be able to make an earning in the arena. You will do way better than me.

No I won't. 

Yes, you will. Not at the start maybe...

How will a few days training get me anywhere?

No no, it won't. You'll have to enter the arena without all the basic lessons, but you'll make it out fine. You just have to avoid getting injured like me.

Maybe we can… try for a bit more training before I'm released into there?

He shook his head. Unless your mother does something special, you will have to go in unprepared. Rent is due.

I… don't have a say in the matter, do I?

Do what you want, this is just what I think is the best way for you two to survive. His arms crossed. You were a good student in my opinion, but you were not the fastest learner. As a Gligar…

So as a Gliscor everything's different?

He shrugged. It was up to _you_ to decide how much use _you_ get out of _you_. There is good justice in having ambition getting you farther than talent, but you could have an unfair advantage in having both. As the occasional realist and an ex-thief, I urge you to take every unfair advantage you can get away with.

I'm still not exactly... in line to beat up other mon. 

It’s part of growing up. Most mon do it for _fun_ . As long as we have berries and we don't try to actually _kill_ , getting a few wounds doesn't mean much. Even me, to an extent. We just… can't afford the faster working ones.

Why doesn't more mon fight each other for fun then?

Because most mon aren't children. It's got some stigma behind not being productive, creating a mess and being a disruption. So they call it a sport and put it into the arena.

Was your injury fun to get?

That's different. Mon can't bet legally so that combatants are measured on performance rather than on a win or loss… but those that do anyway are more likely to cripple their opponent by any means so to win.

Or they could be just that bad.

Of a person? The arena does not have the worst judges of character, but perhaps my opponent was simply having a bad day too. I can't hold it against them, we simply can't sustain grudges in our environment.

We waited in silence for some time. My father didn't think it was an accident, and I was given some time to mull over that. _Why?_ He literally just gave me the why's. _Who?_ Grudges can't be kept, so I thought I wasn't allowed either. _So?_

What now?

Hold on. Here, please, let me have a look.

I backed off, and he eyed me from head to toe. He looked impressed and proud, but something was off in his eyes… something I would have recognized had I been more experienced.

I think you will fit right in.

How?

You don't have to do much to be scary, especially to those who expect a more normal sized Gliscor.

I'll never make another friend again…

True friends don't judge based on appearance. Besides, you haven't been exactly sociable.

I wanted to be alone.

So did I. 

A silence struck, the conversation now leading nowhere. My father's eyes blinked a few times before falling down like drool. Then he was asleep.

I thought I forgot to give him berries that I had, until I remembered that I already ate them. I exited the cramped room, and almost crawled to the blue section of the building, where I felt like I could actually move around my arms freely.

There I checked in with a bored Lucario who was missing one ear. I was told me to write down my footprint, name or signature on an almost completely barren white board on the wall. Most visitors came in the morning, and the board is cleaned after prematurely. Almost all traffic is concerned with the red building too, where the mon of average size are treated. The yellow, green and blue sects would likely have been skipped if it wasn't required for the hospital to be able to treat 95% of the population.

Exactly at the hour mark, I was motioned and followed the Lucario. Across the corner of the hall, and into a dimly lit barren office.

Sorry, my first day here.

Same.

Only allowed at the start of the hour. What can I do for you?

I addressed my father's concerns with me, as well as my own. Why did this happen? What caused it, and what's next in the line of symptoms? I was listened to with full attention, which I thought was great considering how close the doctor was to nodding off at the reception. It took some time, too, to convince the mon that I was only one 1 year old.

Any noticeable symptoms? Shaking, dizziness, tiredness?

Shaking, yes.

I received a slow nod. Did you take a stim berry?

What's that?

Stimulus, stimulant, relaxes muscles?

Yes, right before I left to here.

The Lucario touched me, and I seized. Yep, seems to have worked for now. Let's get to work.

First I got a physical check up, my relative measurements being relatively healthy. The pseudo-fangs on my chest were short, my ears and my tail was longer than the average they know of, and my eyes were noted to be less oval than most, likely contributing to my scary visage. I was given a more accurate assessment on my size, too, being 212% larger than the norm. I was also 509% heavier as well than the average Gliscor. The book that was used as a reference note potential bias due to low populations measured, but the Lucario said that the low variation still placed me as an extreme outlier.

Furthering the examination, she noted nothing unusual. My wings were unusually thick, and my muscles, while never before trained or exercised vigorously, had grown to be able to carry my new weight. The Lucario noted that this would have been much more interesting and definitive had I came _before_ I evolved. I shrugged, I was just looking for problems.

I was given a pass. There was nothing wonky about my physical being, my basic conversation skills besides the occasional voice crack or my aura. _Aura_. I was told it was considerable, but unless I trained, it won't grow and it won't be put to any good use. I would need to contact them if I felt dizzy, if my blood did not clot, or if I felt ingestional pains again similar to the moments prior to my evolution.

Just remember that you're going to be eating a heckin lot more now. We don't have documentation on your hormonal changes, but your parents are still around, right? 

Yes.

Good. I highly recommend talking to them about that. Stay healthy, okay? Take another stim berry for the way out. Congratulations on evolving.

I left the building, and welcomed the starry, colorful night. On the roof, I hanged by the side, then swinged myself into a glide, heading home. I left the paper verification of the doctor’s pass on my father's haybed. Perhaps he will notice it, or his caretakers eventually will.

The stimulant berry probably wore off by now, and my flight began to be shaky. I popped in the one I was given, and the tremors stopped again. What relief I could only hope for the next day.

Landing near the entrance, I saw my mother outside gazing at the crescent moon. She sure had to enjoy it for the few times she did visit the outside. We echoed each other, and I went in with a hug. They will always be great, you know?

Still, beside her, she had to stand on her tail to match my height. She motioned me to do the same, but I returned a confused look.

Gliscors are supposed to stand on their tails. Go ahead.

Am I not tall enough?

It's just what we do naturally. It's more comfortable than standing, trust me.

So I did. I felt like a tower above her. She quickly neverminded me out of it, and we both launched, with me creating yet another hole, towards the forests.

Compared to having her assistance in getting there on her pace, and now being on her level somewhat, it felt very odd that I could simply mimic my mother's movements to achieve the same result now. Being larger, I of course had to keep distance and maintain speed a bit slower to stay with her and not collide. From what I could tell, she was trying to keep up a greater than normal speed too. Did she believe that she had to do that to avoid slowing me down? I wouldn't of cared, really! I was more concerned with trying to wing-and-sing again, still… failing.

Finally at the clearing between the forest and some hastily built road at the edge of the city, we landed comfortably on the branches of a sturdy tree. Sturdy, as it seemed that the weight being introduced in my touchdown only slightly swayed it. Silent was my flight now, but my landings still needed stealth work.

On the ground, I asked why here.

Clearest space around that mimics the arena. Not much grass, mostly dust and dirt. Unless you go to high league, you will be fighting during the night when you are most comfortable too. Nocturnal fights.

So, I have to fight you?

Well what do you want to focus on first? Dodging or attacking?

I don't want to hit you yet.

Dodging then.

Wait, hold up, can we talk about it first?

I noticed she had her pincers ready, but quickly dropped them. Absolutely.

Okay, what are or were you going to do?

Jump, hopefully get you startled, and try hitting you.

How hard were you going to hit me?

Lightly. As we go, harder until you feel it. You've never done this before, but you have some new athleticism now that should help a lot with dodging at least, even if you are a bigger target. Also, thicker chitin. Way thicker.

I just… evolved. I'm not used to this.

That's a good excuse, but I have to dismiss it regardless. Many want to evolve just because they want to be stronger. You're _a lot_ stronger now, which we can get even better, but right now your skills need to catch up to your ability. Does that make sense?

Yes.

Then we best start right away.

Wait can I prep-

I blocked her chain whip tail, barely having any time to react. The strange tenseness I had for the longest time broke away. I had felt adrenaline before, _but nowhere as strong as this_. The fight was on.

_Grab!_

I grabbed a hold of her tail, and tried to strike through it with my other arm. She took her own opportunity to strike at my belly, forcing a cough out of me. Her tail was strong, and she easily twisted it out of my other arm’s way as it faltered from her blow.

I pushed my tail forward, easily creating distance, but she was much too fast, and had a heavy attack against my head ready. I pushed myself below, and distanced myself again but vertically. So she gave a big wallop against my tail, and I fell forward.

_Attack!_

She dodged my greater weight, but I caught her tail during my fall, pinning it into the ground. She attempted to drag me while I recovered, but my claw and weight against her tail had practically stapled it there. She readied herself.

It was time for my own tail attack. I couldn't spin with the claw latching her tail to the ground, but tossing myself over onto her gave enough momentum to force my claw to break free. With a partial mid air spin, letting go of her tail, I unleashed my chain whip against her, but there wasn't enough power in my spin to do anything without having ground to push on.

My tail landed sloppily on her chest region, not even scratching. I then immediately felt an impact on my chest, where my mother firmly placed her own tail and grabbed with its pincers. I was flung backward as she snapped her tail out, but not without hearing gasping exertion in that moment. I was not easy to toss around.

_Dodge!_

I pushed my tail forward and put more distance between us. I needed at least a split second to figure out what just happened. My mind was too caught up with the moment, and the brawl just seemed more reactionary than anything else. I had a feeling that she knew this, but she was already on a roll. Not only that, but she was _happy._

After an uninterrupted breath of air, a heavy tail whipped at me again, but this time I lurched back in time. It whipped the other way, lighter, as she used the momentum to attack from above with her pincers. I lunged to the side, my larger pincers shielding me from her own, and popped up right beside her. I tackled and pushed her up with my tail, but she pinched my arms, ducked under and gave a firm punch to the base of my tail. There was such grace in her movement, my untrained eye would never guess she was ever rusty.

Again and again, I tried to avoid her strikes. I had rarely seen how _other_ mob fight and dodge, so it was an unfair struggle to learn in the heat of practice. I gained two cuts on my favored arm in blocking her strikes, but ultimately it was my tail getting too damaged, sore and painful to keep going. She knew exactly where to hit, and I had no idea that I would use it so much to move around, though I couldn't think of any alternative other than flying. Hopping around on my feet was my usual method of travel, but my legs could never hope to be useful in real combat.

She finally gave me a hard knock in the head, which bolstered my adrenaline for a split second until my tail simply collapsed. I was out of energy, I lacked the pain resistance to endure the precise, repeated strikes, and thankfully she didn't see fit to hit me again while I raised my pincers in a ‘I give up’ gesture. I was scared, panting endlessly while resting my back on the soil, covering my head from further strikes. 

You did poorly. She didn't sound very tired at all.

Wasn't that… expected?

I was hoping for a surprise. You won't last long in the arena like this.

I can't try any harder… than my body can. Maybe I... can still get through it… using my head?

If luck is on your side, you will face someone you have an advantage against. If the opposite, you might get injured. It's an open battlefield: there are no trivial ways of hiding tricks.

I still had words to say, but my breathing had taken over. I wasn't sure if I had over-exerted myself or if it was just heart or lung pain. I closed my eyes until my mother knew all I heard was rambling. For a few brief lapses, I heard that she actually was rambling incoherently, perhaps to get a reaction from me to confirm whether I was actually present.

I was eventually jabbed in the stomach after a while, and as if my injured tail was spring-loaded, I was up on my feet fast. She loved targeting there.

Come on, we need to keep going. Day’s almost over.

I'm exhausted, and it really… hurts to move my tail right now. Really hurts.

You got on your feet pretty fast with it.

I'm feeling the pain now. Ow. Owwe...

Oh. Will you be able to make it home?

My gliders are fine I think.

Okay, we can work with that. She helped me to the side with the help of my legs, up a tree where I had felt my arms super sore, and pushed me to the top branches so I had all the space I needed to pull into a glide. Together, we departed home in seemingly bright darkness, the night sky cloudless, the waning moon nude with its beauty. I still said ow a few more times.

My mother wore the face of perpetual internal sighing. At the very least it wasn't disappointment in me, but I sure felt I wasn't doing something right.

What did I do wrong?

You didn't keep going.

W-what else could I… my tail could barely move from all the pain.

Then take to the air.

I needed my tail to launch.

Your aerojets?

They can't lift me…

No, they should. You just haven't put it in your head yet. Try it next time. Hop with your legs to assist you.

Won't you just hurt my wings then?

Yes.

Why would I try to do that then?

To… learn?

At home, I ate then nearly napped. My mother then showed me how to sleep on the ceiling. I had to take the spot where nobody had really slept before, where the ceiling was at its highest, so that I could fit while stretched out. The blood flow was uncomfortable at first, but it settled me into a drowsy enough state after awhile. Getting my arms into a position where they weren't dangling was weird but quite comfortable… almost meditative. I was quickly fed a bit more in that state, and then told to sleep as much as I wanted. Business as usual, then, besides my back thoughts being wary of tomorrow.

Sleep I did. I didn't know why my tail knew how to hang on while I was out and unconscious, but I was really glad for it when it did.

Another change that came from my evolution? My dreams. Before, it was quiet and peaceful, gliding over the cityscape until, perhaps, a giant ice monster popped from the shoreline and gobble me whole. Perhaps it was a singing performance gone wrong, with a growing wind silencing my voice and swaying me off balance. A few times, it was darkness I could not see in, and I heard whispers and growling around me as I tried to tread a world of jagged spikes and spiny pillars, unable to land anywhere without stabbing myself as the ground was nowhere to be seen. Those were my most memorable, at least.

But after evolving? I was still in ‘darkness,’ but one that I could see in, though there was a thick ashy fog surrounding me. I was still frequently flying, but faster with a stiff twirling gust going around. The ground was visible, too, but it was entirely freezing water. Speaking, or even trying to make sound through my breaths sent a fiery sensation down my throat, gagging me with pain I couldn't feel yet had.

The growing storm was doing its job well at tiring me out, causing my lungs to fill up with fire as my breaths became harder. Maintaining my flight was impossible, and the fog encroached in from all directions. I had to land, but I lost it the moment I began seeking it, as it fell rapidly away.

I held my fiery breath, and dived, a strange sand then scratching my cheeks at a speed I had never attempted nor felt before. But the ground had disappeared in the distance. My aerojets had already ran empty. Was there such an extreme vent of air hitting me from below?

Then I saw the rocky ground, a bit better than water, approach lightning fast. I tried to brace in time, but a strange stiffness prevented me. I slammed my head and bent my neck... at a tiny fraction of the speed I thought I was going. Fresh air suddenly returned to my throat, and when I opened my eyes once more, the storm didn't only just vanish: I was home.

Ow Ow Ow. I rolled over and immediately felt the fresh bruise on my forehead, wiping at it lightly. There was a scrape on my tail’s end, and my aero jets were completely dry and empty. I was super glad to have my voice back, no matter how scary it sounded, but I had to fret over the fact that the sensation lingered. I also just woke up diving from the ceiling and slamming straight into the rocky floor.

My mother was soon in sight. What happened?

A dream. I fell down suddenly....

First, write down your dreams.

Why? A journal?

You will remember it more strongly. Your mind tries to forget what you dream about. If it's important…

I shook my head. I always remember my dreams. I don't need to write it down.

She looked away nonchalantly. Okay, tell me about it over breakfast. Starts on you.

I always popped my head outside as often as I could: it was darn near t to tell the time otherwise. I was curious about the weather, too. I woke up… late? Early? The sun was nearly setting outside. Baggy, low clouds were approaching. I tried to give it a little tune, but I instead confessed a bit of a low performance. _I will personally annihilate these voice cracks_.

We were inside, eating start berries. She went first: was it a bad dream?

No. Maybe, I was flying kind of dangerously.

Did you dive down harshly?

Yes, and the water or ground kept getting farther away!

Did you dry out your jets? She had a smug smile, and I finally caught up with her.

Oh, seriously?

Your tail will get stronger, but for now, your jets… combined with your heavier weight will not bode well for you.

My jets will get stronger too, right?

She waited for her mouth to finish chewing before speaking again, but nodded in the meantime. My own was stuffed.

Yes, it's an organ like any other. But usually, it matches pace with your body. If you're more active, it recharges faster. If you gain some muscle, it will grow a bit to get more push out.

So it will happen again.

You're a fully evolved pokemon now. A _ground_ _type_ and a _flying type_. A head-first crash landing should be nothing.

I got a bruise…

A tiny one. It's already gone. I scratched my head to feel the mark on the chitin already faded.

I asked why it's called chitin if it can bruise.

Natural Armour. Hard skin. I haven't done any experiments on myself to find out the answer to that.

I'll call it armor.

Probably right. We have an endoskeleton already.

After she explained what an endoskeleton was, I began to venture into the details of my dream. The heat; the ashy, fiery storm; and the difficulty flying. Her eyes lit up a few times during the explanation, and in the end expressed the exact amount of sympathy I expected. 

Is this normal?

She nodded, and finished her berries. It took me much longer due to the amount I now had to eat. I was still a bit hungry afterwards, but a big drink of water allowed me to reassess my hunger more accurately.

Tonight was foggy, reminding me of when darkness held away secrets. Gligar and Gliscor eyes were simply too big to pick up the ultraviolet spectrum to see through it, but fortunately this is exactly why we could echo. I found it odd that I couldn't read my mother's echo into my vision as we flew to our destination, but apparently she didn't know why either. Perhaps the echo was unique to each Gliscor. I nodded, having heard my father's higher-pitched, rougher echos when he woke up. They were different than my mother's. But it was only a theory. I wondered how many times I would question my species until I finally opened a book and see for myself...

At the destination, you couldn't see a meter in any direction. Landing only on echo became something of a trust exercise, and the adrenaline rush of hitting the ground exactly as expected became my bright moment of the day. I didn't need to practice that, at least. The ground was gone when I stood on my tail outstretched, but looking closer, the grass was wet enough for me to realize we had just missed the rain. I heard my mother landing nearby, her echos becoming rapidly frequent before coming to a stop.

Today, your ears and echos will guide you.

We're still going to fight? Without seeing each other?

What's your proposal, then?

Uh, flight practice?

I don't know how long until we will get a chance like this again. I know it's just your second time, but some of your opponents will know how to make the arena very briefly foggy like what you see here. The arena itself might be I'm fog, too, depending whether they want to bother keeping the fight clear.

Do I close my eyes to make sure I'm blind?

No. We will see each other once we get very close.

Am I going to learn ranged attacks?

No?

Then isn't the fog kind of useless if we're going melee?

She thought about it for a moment. My echo caught her just as she smirked. Ah, shush. I'll try to keep it interesting.

This time I tried to prepare, and had my legs ready at brace with my tail on the snap position, ready to fling myself forward, up or to the side. My echoes were going out at a rapid pace, and as each one came back, I expected to ‘see’ my mother dive at me and begin her onslaught from the fog.

She just stood there, glancing around and eying the terrain with idle arms. I thought about initiating the training session myself. Perhaps that was the lesson. Then she stared up.

I unconsciously had my echoes directed upward now, detecting nothing. With a big swing and all her momentum, she bashed the side of my midsection. Pushing away with my tail in the same direction, panicked, I managed to twist myself to land on my front.

I dashed my tail forward again, making more distance. I kept up my echo to see where she is... and sure enough she was right in front of me. _Oh no!_ I span with full effort and speed, but I hit nothing but air. I then felt a furious jab against my neck, and with me reeling back, a bash against my midsection. She didn't let up, and with her back turned, she accurately grabbed my forehead with her tail. With her jumping and using all her weight, she whipped my head to the ground, and my body quickly followed.

Flat on my back, feeling that thunderous impact, all I could do was clench my arms around my head and curl my tail up along with my body. I never had any plan to match this ferocity before or after the hit; all I had to show to her was the face of fear. I wanted to say _stop_. Thankfully my actions spoke for me then.

Letting go of my forehead, my mother pried away the pincers blocking my face, and I gave up resisting. She did not follow up with another slam-down, but instead gently nudged me around to get a better look at the wounds. There were none, it was just painful as heck.

Sorry. I'm really sorry.

Pain was rarely encountered in my life... before then, at least, and even though I had thought I was successful in the previous fight and before at deterring pain, those past times didn't relieve itself then. Instead, this dose of reality was hard to swallow. Either my mother was losing her grip on holding back, or…

Your injuries from yesterday did not fully heal yet. Tail is still tender, you really feel it at this angle?

Yes.

She gave the motion as if she was ready to snap my tail out to bend out the rigidness, but instead relaxed, let go and gave a frown.

It was the worst of times I had to smile the most, though not because I was happy and bright. It was hard sometimes to even give a smirk, but I still had to, as I could not falter before the real match tomorrow. My swelling of tears were held, and after being held pinned for a few minutes by a sorry yet prodding Gliscor, she allowed me to stand.

I saw she couldn’t help not sharing a smile after seeing mine. You still need to be taught the _basics_.

Why can't we start with that?

Same reason why a mon would… remember that saying about the… Bidoof. How a Bidoof sharpens their teeth for hours before chewing through a tree in minutes.

Okay, how does that apply here?

I'm trying to figure out exactly what you're bad at before I start chiseling at you.

Won't we still need to go through the basics?

I'm hoping you would learn them quickly and naturally as we would do other activities. It would take too long otherwise.

I stared down for a bit. Have I learned _anything_ yet?

No.

Aw well.

We still have a whole day ahead. Come on.

Both of us walked away, and I could no longer see her. She could no longer see me.

I stopped myself from echoing, and instead listened. That was the lesson, right? Learning the hard way was a painful practice in all her teachings, but when the opportunity to learn the easy way never presents itself, I had to accommodate. There was nothing else.

The stagnant wind offered me little direction to where she was and where she was going. I heard the hum of the city, but the trees and grass were silent. White, chained skies, and the winter chill following it.

A minute had passed. I had to make the first move, right? This was going nowhere. I know what would happen if I echoed, but it could not be as bad as what had just happened. _I could brace myself! Maybe I can try to put a real attack in too!_ I hesitated. Still, the choice to hurt would never get easier without trying, so it was for the best to start where it was expected and easily forgiven. _Even kids fight each other for fun!_

Echo.

There was no one in front of me, but she heard it. I was immediately caught in a choke hold from behind, and with her full momentum, she pinned me to the ground again, pinching my gliders with her tail pincers. My arms were free to bend in uncomfortable ways to fight back, but instead I focused on my throat.

I thought quietly to myself as I choked: what am I learning? Why wasn't she just telling me what to do? It would be so much easier. 

_I had to try_. I focused all my effort in twisting my arm into a more able position, slipping it to my side, and then clamped on her arms as hard as I could think of doing.

A big yelp was what I heard, and I could breathe once more. Pushing off with my free arm, I was on my side with my mother rolling away. A mix of frustration and determination as I launched at her.

My previously locked arm attempted a heavy bash up on her torso, but it glanced off her parrying arm. She attempted a grab on me, but the grip wasn't found and it whished in the air.

And then I could see that shimmer in her eyes, like a twinkle of blue energy. It was fast, and her pincers radiated with that gray-blue energy. Her arms in an X-shape, she approached at her full speed.

I had seen plenty of times a mon use their energy in their attacks. It was hard to use it for anything else, considering how much it took out of you for each burst. I had _no_ idea how to do it, nor if there was any way to avoid it. I tried, leaning back and nearly going into flight with the force I pushed myself backward with.

She was above me, somehow caught up, and sliced me square across the chest. Energy attacks had a sort of vibrating heat to it, giving the pain a relentless, lingering feel, not to mention the force, which slammed me into the ground as if I had fell from a tower’s height. My breath escaped me.

On my back, my mother landed behind me, right where I couldn't swing my tail out and try to hook her. I instead had to push a bit away from the ground with my arms to be able to bend my tail inwards, and then shoot myself up. What was success, here? Did I have to get a hit in? A big one?

I felt a familiar bash against my midsection’s side as I turned, but I didn't fall over. I sprung up my tail again to avoid her clamping on my arms, giving a light scratch as she over-reached instead. She was right in front of me, realizing...

I gave my quickest, stiffest jab at her clavicle, and it _struck_. Having leaned forward into it, she had to have felt the impact, and indeed she stuttered back a bit. I then charged as fast as I could, and tackled her. I wasn't as muscular as she was, but I still had a fairly large weight advantage over her. She seemed prepared for the squish, but I saw her grimace as I had shifted as much of my weight as I could on her recently hit clavicle.

I immediately buried my pincers over her arms, and I attempted to wrap my tails around her to prevent it from moving. She looked at me with a growing curious expression. I had her in a lock.

Straight into my eyes. What now?

I didn't think fast enough. She slammed her forehead against mine, and the dizziness took me. She grabbed my arm and chest, and easily turned me over to where she was on top.

Taking a cautious, slow pace, she placed her arms intersecting around my neck. I will teach you what to do next. Pulling then at my neck, it became a tight lock that was quickly choking me out. In my last bit of adrenaline, I tried to bend her tail, and push her off. No, instead, I saw the world start to fade away quickly. Her grip was strong.

I jabbed her eye, and she was off in a heartbeat. I breathed, then took a wallop to the face. She had her left eye closed, but after a few painful hits to force me on my back, let go, stood and distanced herself.

My breathing became manageable for the moment. I couldn't look at her. I'm sorry.

You did everything fine. You can take opportunities, and that can make up for your overall weakness and lack of skills.

I couldn't do anything else…

You could have said stop.

I didn't... want to disappoint you yet.

You didn't, and you wouldn't have either if you gave up earlier. We can't afford to get you injured.

I'm not ready. We barely did anything.

I saw a slight nod. It all depends. Fighting mon like me, you will fall. But if ‘they’ go easy because of your ‘recent injury,’ you might face off against someone newer. Hope on it.

She was wandering around me, now out of view from the fog. We will train more after, right?

You'll train for the rest of your life, optimally. With me… I don't know. You'll learn _much_ more from getting your spirit sacked around like a bag of berries.

I sat up, long pincers laid on the ground in front. A big sack of berries.

My echoes still tracked her, and I saw her outline raise its hands defensively. Nothing on _my_ family line got you that. I was actually the tall one in my family, and your father the same. There would have been tall tales of giant Gliscor in the books about us if it occurred before.

_I didn't even know what a book about us tells._ I'm a big target….

You're not horrible at dodging, though. You lack the direction and finesse, but you have the reaction and the... speed, heh.

I'm also still… weak. I think.

She was behind me now, still wandering around absent-mindedly. You're _much_ stronger than before you became a scor. I'm not that much stronger than you, actually, you just don't have the... technique in using it.

I don't think it's technique.

It is. You have to put your whole body to what you're doing, not just your arm.

I thought I was doing exactly that.

It's really hard to do consciously. This is a skill your body needs to learn, not specifically _you_.

I nodded. That sounds weird.

Are you done resting?

Yes. I stood up on my legs, which almost needed immediate assistance from my tail to remain myself upright. My outstretched arms, which was quickly trying to find a happy medium of balance, changed the expression on my mother's face.

Stern expression. You're done for today.

Wait, no, you still haven't trained me with… distance stuff. Faraway attacks.

Ranged attacks. That's gotta wait. If I push any harder, you might not be in any condition to fight tomorrow.

What if they _only_ do projectile attacks? All of them?

We began walking up the nearest tall tree, and my mother looked up, giving it a quick look over in its structure. She smiled. Then you will do all the melee attacks, right?

Do you know the direction of home? I had actually lost my orientation during the spar. Of course, being mother, she would have maintained her concentration.

Climbing up and setting sail, we pushed up until we were clear of the fog. A sight I've rarely seen in the late nights, especially for my mother and my new eyes. A flat gray puffy land, the tall buildings scraping at the low sky, the distant hillscape and nothing else.

We did a bit of criss-cross to get a better overview as we scanned the ground for the way home. We found the large entrance, and finally found home. It felt like a long day already.

After getting a short rest to ebb away the pain mixed with soreness, I woke up from my nightdreaming in a silly resting posture to find a book half-open on my face, showing familiar pictures and texts of info. _Gligar, Gliscor_ . The rest of the day went unfathomably quick, my attention and spirit drawn away to self-discovery. Okay, the information wasn't a _whole_ lot, but it was nice to have my feelings and observations verified by flying scorpions past. No account of gigantism, though, but that was hoping for too much.

Sunrise was spotted, and I remember wondering if every sleep would be better than the last so long as I worked hard. After testing that and waking post-sunset, I once again confronted a breakfast I had no idea I easily need nor could easily fit. My mother was more tired than usual, her eyes missing the signs of conscious wit and instead filled with thought and worry.

I had to ask about it. Will you be coming?

Yeah.

Did you sleep?

She rubbed her eyes. Not much, no. I wasn't productive either. She drifted her eyes until they were stuck at the corner of the cave, resting her head on the convex of her pincer. No training today, I promise you.

Where do I show up?

Oh, holdon holdon. She quickly rushed to the side, then tossed me a large coin. Still adjusting to my limbs, I overshot, and it went beside the thin red part of my arm. Spinning around for one last attempt, I caught it in my other arm's pincer. And she saw it too, so that was amazing.

Looking at it closer: definitely a coin with some weight to it, emblazoned with the Torch, the symbol of the arena. Copper, meaning the Copper league, the first league that entrants go with and sometimes stay with. Do I show this to them?

The mon that will stop you as you head to the prep rooms, definitely. She scratched her brow, the conversation doing little to energize her.

So there's a prep room, what else?

Medical. Waiting rooms. Prisons. Kitchens and storage. Your father told me a fair bit, though I would be at ill in giving exact details.

I'll be able to just figure it out as I go along, right? _Smile!_

Your going under the guise of your father, remember? You weren't gone for long, do I'd think they would expect you to already know. She clapped her pincer at me.

If my father knew anyone personally, they would _instantly_ know. I clacked back at her.

Any friend of his would be of good character and forgiveness. Weigh on his rep a bit and just try to roll with it until this is over.

I nodded, not exactly sure when it would be over, but I knew enough of my mother's condition to see that her energy was at _negative_. She blinked, gazed somewhere else, then closed her eyes, her body falling limp. I hoped she would stay that way until I was back home so I could pretend that I had yet to go, but I doubted it.

I stretched my still oddly shaped limbs to see if the soreness from the day before persisted, but nope! I woke up refreshed, and ready for a day of potentially agonizing pain. _Awesome!_

I lightly hopped out of the main entrance of the cavern system, finding a young-but-older-than-me adventurous bird team looking for cave berries on the way out. I was soon in flight after climbing a nearby building, sailing off to the still encroaching night. My attempts at singing keeping my mind occupied and with my jets to full, I got to a comfortable height to see the arena straight ahead of me.

It wasn't the star of the show by any means, but it _was_ the most active building during the night. Nocturnal mon, thankfully, were quiet by nature, though it did not stop the ringing of explosions nor the rumbles across the earth.

I silently glided along the rim of the coliseum until I found one of the entrances, where a mon looked, half-dazingly, into the growing sea of stars. Three ivysaurs trekked out behind the guard, also appearing a bit worn out for the day, but still spirited in whispering about the moves that were on display.

… charged that sunbeam, even when there was barely any light-- _whumph_. There was no natural stealth to my landings unlike my glide, and everymon jumped into attention. Same expression as I would expect from being snuck up on by a giant scorpion, but the guard had a much different outlook.

He was in utter horrific delight. The Mankey was fidgeting to jump. Token, right here please!

I handed one to him. It had the wear and tear of a token that already had experience in being shown around in the bottom leagues, but he still enthusiastically pushed me in, past the briefly frightened spectators, into the enormous hallways of the arena. Almost every mon known could fit in there.

The lights inside were dimmed to help mon who were blinded by bright sources, and the halls seemed to have... a natural absorption of sound? Perhaps to nullify loud echoes heading toward sensitive ears. The tan walls around me were fortified by bands of what looked like gold, polished to reflect even my passing purple image. At the end of my sight down the passageway, a board with directions was there to lead both contenders and spectators to their destinations.

It was nowhere near as crowded as it was at day, but the commotion could still be easily heard. I wished I knew what the dazzlement was about. They could technically be _literally_ dazzled, as the stands aren't protected from every visual area attack. There weren't enough warnings in the world that could stop an arena fan in their tracks, though.

I found the battlements, though there were barely anymon in. We're talking like three or four during my stay in that room. One was a small Charizard that practiced breathing fire through his nose rather than his mouth; a Noctowl staring blankly to herself in the mirror, hypnotized; and a Sneasel that was just leaving with a limp, dried blood around his claws. The fourth was a sleeping Charmeleon, wearing the yellow band of the arena around her waist.

At first I just looked at myself in the mirror. I had looked at quite a few before, but this was the first time I saw a crystal-clear image of my own Gliscor face. I looked as focused as ever, but a bit more _new_ , you know? My mother was right to note the new mischievousness in my default smile, but there was plenty of _me_ still in it. Besides that, I opened my mouth, manually twitched my ears, and stuck out my tongue. I looked more like my parents than ever before, so I gave the full range of expressions that I could never expect to see on their faces before.

The Noctowl, I noticed a moment later, was giving me the most _what the heck_ look at me. I abstained from the mirror, then noticing I still had my bag equipped.

The Charmeleon will hold onto that. I gave the owl a nod, spun, and saw the banded fire-type stare at me with tired eyes, sitting on a bench. She was apparently paying attention to her calling.

I left to her, and showed the bag around my waist, taking it off cautiously. She stuck her hand out, barely moving her face, and I placed my belonging to her. T-token?

Here. I let her get a long glimpse of the Copper coin. She almost took hold of it, but sparks of recognition ran wild in her.

Y-you’re not-t him. She gave me an unimpressed look.

Nah, we're both Gliscor! It can totally be done!

Y-you admit-t it. He g-gave you t-this? She was definitely trying to spot any forgery on the coin.

Yeah! He's my dad!

She gave me another glance, sizing me up. Had I been standing on my tail rather than my legs, she would of had to lean back to meet my eyes. I c-can’t f-find the res-resembelence. 

We're both Gliscor?

Oh s-sure. I w-was t-talking about size, y-you idiot. H-he never m-mentioned a G-gliscor k-kid.

Recently evolved.

She crossed her legs on the bench, preparing for a much longer conversation. S-so? I c-could have evol-lved as w-well. Y-yet everyone would-d kn-know it was m-me.

Proof? What would my father tell them?

I waited for the idea to poof into my head. An obvious one. A lively one. He _would_ tell his arena friends.

So I sang. Lightly, as honest as I could be, but an echo of what I could once give. The simplest tune made its way through, the figment of much practice behind my voice still barely there. I could only try, though, as her ears were likely untrained.

The most bruised Kadabra stumbled his way to the room, turned, and laid flat on a bench, breathing out his exhaustion. While I had everyone's attention briefly, I was nearly thankful that I didn't have to be told to stop instead. The Charizard raced off to take the place of the Kadabra in the arena, while Noctowl went back to staring at herself.

The Chameleon was holding up a hand when I looked back to her. It-t hurts-s to hear that-t.

My eyes stumbled down, my grip around my bag tightened. I wanted to go home all of a sudden.

N-no, no. I m-mean, y-you rem-mind m-me of b-broken d-dreams. Sor-ry.

Can I go in the arena?

Y-yes. As y-you or y-your f-father?

I'll use my father's.

The Charmeleon lifted a long piece of paper by the side, but then put it back. I-I’ll d-do it l-later.

I returned to my brighter smiles. So what do I do?

D-drop your s-stuff, a-and wait-t. I unslung my bag, and handed it to her. W-wait f-for your t-turn.

I went off to the side a bit, getting the full view of the nodding-off Charmeleon, recovering Kadabra and self-absorbed Noctowl at the mirror. _Stretch! Left, right!_ I was not sure what to exactly stretch for a fight, but I figured my arms and stinger tail needed to be as limber as possible. I never really confirmed whether it really helped or not, so who knows? After that, I quietly breathed deeply in and out too, just hoping a bit of meditation as I hung upside down. The Kadabra eventually joined, but left shortly after I saw almost all of his wounds and bruises vanish before me. _Psychic_.

The Charmeleon took a look at the fight going on within, and came back with a strange smile on her. Before she got a comfortable napping position, a small bell on the ceiling shook and restrained her back to consciousness. The poor lizard. She motioned me forward from my hang on the ceiling, giving a glance to the Noctowl who also livened up to the sudden noise.

Y-your-you know w-what t-to do to ent-ter?

Of course when my smile really was a but sinister, there was no hiding it. I go the way you went, then fly down right on top of them!

A-actually, y-you can d-do t-that.

But isn't there some sort of gate on the ground you enter by?

I-If you c-can j-just fly in, i-it would s-save us-s s-some troub-bouble.

I gave a sidelong sigh, smirking at the entrance. As if expected, the Charizard entered, huffing a darker smoke from his throat this time. Whether he won or not, I would not know unless we were permitted to watch the fights.

He passed by me, giving me a quick glare and quiet word. Lost.

Nevermind then. I was not sure whether or not the victor still stayed out, though. I sure felt ready to find out! I was never told the process from my father's stories, or so uncaring about them that I hurried him to the flashy fighty parts.

F-find t-the b-battle master r-right out-tside. He-he will t-tell y-you the r-rest. She gave me a reassuring smile before turning to the exit herself, likely retiring for the night. The Noctowl stayed, hypnotized.

I headed down the brightly lit hallway until I see it trailed off to the dark outside. I immediately saw a nearly passed out Lucario to my right, but everywhere else was the inside of the arena. Just like the outside, it was gigantic and awe inspiring. Mainly bowl shaped, the floor and walls was made of some strange red-striped brown metal that was unlike the outer portions of the arena, where there was just brown rock and the occasional support beam of steel. The decorations on the wall were still at their best shine, and while the terrain was battered, burnt and shelled, I could see it reform itself already. Around, the crowd was sparse, and only a few sat around the second and third levels. With all the space, they took their most comfortable positions, some large mom leaning over two seats. The faint lights that skimmed the top overhang made it look like a giant halo rested above, and the four tall arches, each extending to the corners and giving support to the higher floors, looked partially transparent to allow the audience to see through it. What hit me next was the smell, fresh ash and the strange smell of the sea. And then, sound. The quiet bustle and murmurs of onlookers having chats, sharing their thoughts. With the smaller attendance, the lack of shouts and screaming gave way for… community. It's easy to miss that nowadays.

The Lucario turned to me, eyes lighting up. My quick glance showed many of the audience ceasing their conversations and giving me an hopeful, perhaps excited look. I had stepped out of the shadows now, in full view. I gave my brightest… somewhat villainous smile I could! It’s hard, alright?

The Lucario waved me forward. Gliscor?

I approached. Perhaps I could still pass as my father. I came back!

He gave an unnerving smile, twitching as if in response for my every-way fallible disguise. Nope. You’re bigger, your tone is different, and your aura’s different too.

I paused, recovering a bit, blinking. _Whoooops._ I’m still a Gliscor, and… I’m... his child, taking over.

A shared pregnant pause. You… you’re evolved! He immediately broke demeanor, and leaned forward a bit, but only managed to pat my the side of my midsection. That’s… fantastic! Great! I haven’t heard of this, was it recent? What of your father?  
  


I kneeled down a bit so his arms could reach for my shoulder. He’s in the hospital, recovering.

Good, good. The Lucario looked at the crowd for a moment, gauging their patience. You were his little singer, and you got so big. He cautiously inspected me then. Say, did you evolve for this? To fight?

I stared blankly at her. Yeeees... two or so days ago.

He held his arm for a bit until it drooped down, sliding off. I’m sorry, really sorry to hear that. I wish I got to see you as a Gligar. He worried all the time about you popping up here after you would one day evolve, but… but trust me, you’ll come to like it. You’re just here to cover for him?

Yes! My back straightened in response, and immediately I towered over him. I kneeled down again, hoping to not annoy him.

Some people might notice your size, you know; familiar with your father. He looked out again at the crowd, noticing the anticipation exhausting away. We’ll just let them speculate. Can you fight, most importantly?

A little.

No no, can you _fight?_ He stared at me, taking a much more serious tone.

No. I'm sorry. I just started after I evolved.

Okay. Lucario bowed his chin, planning the fight. Can you take a few hits?

Yes, my mom made me bruised all over the last few days. I scratched my back with my tail almost instinctively as the pain was reminded of.

What about energy attacks?

I got hit by those too.

Good. Can you do them?

I scratched my neck with the tip of my pincer. I had room to practice, but would I get a chance? I answered. Maaybe. In an emergency?

No no, can you do it _all_ the time? One after the other?

Oh, you mean whish whish shing? I mimicked the sound of my pincers as they pretended to attack, but it did little to hide the fact they were not glowing. _I was trying_.

Not at all. You're out of time. He looked towards the approaching mon coming from the corridor I came from, finding the still-quiet Noctowl. The Lucario was chewing on his hand spike, but it appeared as though the years had not grinded even the tiniest bit from its size and shape.

He was either worried about my safety or the upcoming performance.

The Noctowl bowed and then launched over us, gently landing in the arena pit in a glide, which I can do _a lot better by the way_. A small cheer resonated from the crowd, it was clear this was the last battle many are here to watch before the nocturnal arena is switched to.

The Lucario motioned me to join the owl, but my pincer was understandably raised. I have questions.

The short bustle in the audience died, now awaiting for a short second cheer. The Lucario couldn't reach to bring my hand down, but gave his say regardless: This is Copper league. Mon watch because it's fun, flashy and safe. As terrifying as you look, try to put on a show.

I lowered my hand in defeat, bent backwards towards the edge of the pit, and then… _paff!_ A small leap as I twisted into the air, and then raised my gliders to provide a gentle landing, facing the Noctowl. Short and sweet.


End file.
